


That Summer

by tellmealovestory



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Biker Bucky, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Modern AU, Smut, Summer Love, summer flings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellmealovestory/pseuds/tellmealovestory
Summary: You've spent every summer since you were a child in the idyllic beach town that you call home three months out of the year. This summer should be no different except for the addition of Bucky Barnes. Sparks fly upon first meeting, but it's only a summer fling, right? Modern AU.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 96
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a story about summer love so here it is.
> 
> I'm still working on requests for Something More, but in the meantime here's a new story to tide you over!

Mosquitos battled with the scratchy blanket beneath your body in a fight over who could do more damage to your sensitive skin. So far it was a tie. Music drifted out of your car speakers, a bouncy pop song, something meant for being blared at top decibels in a darkened club, sweaty bodies moving together, colorful drinks filled to the brim of expensive glasses. Not something for laying in a field an hour outside of the city stargazing.

It was a warm night, a promise of what was to come as summer began its lazy descent. _Summer._ Just the word always conjured long days, lazy nights, uniforms of shorts and tank tops, bare feet. Frozen slushees from the local convenience store staining lips and teeth and tongues blues and reds and purples, bags of potato chips and handfuls of candy bars. Windows rolled down, music turned _all the way up_ , singing off key to lyrics that seemed as if they were written for you and only you as you drove aimlessly through the city before venturing onto the back roads that would take you far from the bright lights and the familiarity of your life to somewhere else.

The crinkle of a candy wrapper being balled up, the obnoxious slurp of a straw searching for the last remnants of a cherry slushee mixed with vodka had your teeth grinding in annoyance at your sometimes friend sprawled out next to you on the blanket.

“This is your last night here and _this_ is how you choose to spend it?”

You didn’t have to take your eyes off of the stars shining and twinkling above you, winking like they held secrets, like they knew what the future, more specifically what this summer would hold for you to know she was rolling her eyes at you.

And while you tried to tell yourself you didn’t care her tone still stung.

“You didn’t _have_ to come,” you pointed out, leaving out the part about how she only came because her sometimes boyfriend ditched her again. “And it’s not like I’m not coming back. It’s only for the summer, remember?”

“ _Whatever_. Have fun with your _summer friends_ ,” she sneered, tone icy, piercing straight through the warmth in your chest.

It was harder this time to hide the physical way her words stung. Flinching you inched away from her on the blanket. You weren’t a mean person, but you still thought about getting in your car and abandoning her here.

Ignoring her huffed sighs, the slurp of the straw, the way she boldly reached across you grabbing your plastic cup still half full with the blue raspberry slushee you kept your gaze focused on the sky above you.

A bright streak danced across the sky, so quick if you had blinked one second sooner, if you had turned your head away from the sky you would have missed it. Your heart sped up at the sight, awe and doubt mixing in your mind. Blindly grabbing for your friends arm you excitedly pointed at the sky, blabbering about the shooting star.

Obsessed since you had learned about them in school books had been consumed, online articles inhaled, paintings painted, stories written, but you had never expected to see one.

In the blink of an eye it was gone and you were left wondering if you had seen its beauty at all.

Closing your eyes you inhaled damp grass, the alcohol infused breath of your sometimes friend, the sugary sweet slushees, the salty potato chips that swirled around you and made a wish on the brightly burning shooting star that had streaked across the sky for that one glorious brief moment.

_I wish to fall in love this summer._

* * *

“You’re not mad are you?”

Your eyes were glued to the scenery that shot past your windows. The large mansions that sat dotted on the beach before giving way to gift shops and tourists traps. The ocean that glittered and shined when the bright sun hit it. The sand that had you itching to beg Wanda to pull the car over so you could run through the burning heat before dipping your feet into the still cold ocean water. Tires hummed on the road, salty ocean air inhaled, wind rustling against your hair and ruffling your shirt.

After stepping off the plane, smile on your face, sweat soaking through your shirt at the heat that hit you as soon as you had stepped out of the air conditioned terminal you had run straight into your best friends arms squealing like preteen girls at a boy band concert.

The conversation had flowed easily with her pointing out the new shops, restaurants, the gossip you had missed out on when you had left at the end of last summer. It wasn’t until the conversation had drifted to the evenings plans that it began to stall.

Your first night back had always been a girls night with take out food, homemade desserts you had brought with you, bottles of soda when you were younger that turned into shared bottles of wine, trashy television shows as you caught up with each other’s lives in person instead of over texts and skype.

This year however plans had changed.

“I’m not mad.” It was hard to be mad when you would be spending the next three months in paradise, but you _were_ disappointed.

You had always looked forward to the first night together to unwind, to catch up, but now you were going to be spending it with their friends feeling like the awkward out of towner struggling to keep up with their inside jokes, their familiar banter.

Tearing your gaze away from the scenery you turned your attention to Wanda offering her a small smile. It was only one night.

“It’ll be fun!” Wanda chirped.

* * *

Showered, fresh faced, damp haired, bags piled high on your bed in Wanda’s spare room a quick girls night had commenced with Natasha. Gossiping over chips and dip the three of you had made plans for the summer before piling into the car heading to the party.

Christmas lights were strung throughout the house and on the back porch leading the place to have a whimsical feel. When they had told you a party you had been expecting wall to wall people, red solo cups, couples making out, drunk people stumbling and laughing.

What greeted you instead were motorcycles parked in the driveway, along the tree lined streets. Loud music spilled from the peach two story house. A few people stood outside, bottles of beer held between fingers, thumbs furiously scrolling through phones, leather jackets adorning shoulders despite the oppressive heat.

Everybody seemed to know who Natasha and Wanda were. It was impossible to take two steps without someone coming up to say hey. Introductions were made, but the more people you met the more the names and faces blurred together.

Ending up in the kitchen leaning against the counter, a bottle of warm beer pressed into your hand your eyes swept over the small crowd that clustered around the keg. More leather jackets placed on shoulders, animated conversations swirling around you, cigarette tips burning bright orange, smoke exhaled leading the kitchen to be filled with a hazy fog that made your head ache with fatigue.

Weight shifting from foot to foot, beer bottle sweating with condensation in your hand, strangers nodding in your direction in lieu of hellos. You were used to standing on the sidelines, watching everything and everybody with a keen eye, but it didn’t make it any less lonely.

Pushing through the scattered bodies of the kitchen you slid open the patio door inhaling the pine trees that surrounded the back yard, the salty ocean air that could be faintly smelled in the distance. The night air was muggy, the sky dark, the stars twinkling and as you stumbled to the railing you closed your eyes willing the fresh air and the stars to ease your loneliness.

“Careful there.”

Your body froze at the husky voice that dared to break your peaceful solitude. Shoulders tensed you exhaled, slowly opening your eyes to see a tall man, dark hair pulled into a man bun, cigarette dangling from kissable lips. He was beautiful standing there in the glow of the Christmas lights that were strung along the railing.

Convinced he was talking to someone else you turned your head, gaze inspecting the patio, the yard, but it was just you and the dark haired stranger.

A long drag off the cigarette, a quirk of an eyebrow and he was speaking again, voice low and gravelly. “You good?”

“Uh yup, yeah, great, thanks,” you rambled, loosening your hold on the railing. Worried that he’d think you were drunk you whirled around to face him, watching the way his beefy body leaned against the porch railing a few feet away from you. Caring what people thought about you, trying too hard to make everyone happy around you were were faults you had yet to overcome. It didn’t matter that you didn’t know him you still found yourself, to your horror, blurting out, “I’m not drunk!”

Exhaling a stream of smoke he stubbed out his cigarette. “Never thought you were.” His lips tilted upwards, a ghost of a smile on his face, a wisp of hair falling from his bun and framing his face.

“Right,” you said slowly. Shifting your weight from foot to foot you cleared your throat determined to start over on a better note. “I just... my friends left me alone for a couple minutes and I guess I sort of panicked and needed some fresh air and I didn’t know you were out here and... you’re laughing.”

It was rich, the kind of laugh a person could fall in love with. Throaty and hoarse like he had used his voice up on talking all day though you suspected it had more to do with the cigarettes. So far he appeared to be a man of few words.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

The only thing better than his laugh was the way he stepped closer, the floorboards of the porch creaking beneath his clunky black boots as he closed the gap of space between your bodies.

Up close he was even more striking. Sculpted jaw, cheeks painted the lightest shade of pink that reminded you of spring roses, eyes so bright they rivaled the color of the ocean. Tight black tee shirt that you hinted at the built body beneath it, black leather jacket that matched the other ones inside of the house. Blue jeans that you somehow knew hid a perfect ass.

It was impossible to take your eyes off of him, but the feeling appeared mutual as his eyes lingered on your hair, your makeup free face, the thin strapped summer dress you had thrown on with a pair of sandals.

Had it been any other man standing before you, stare lingering you would have felt self-conscious, would have crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat before politely making an excuse and scurrying away.

It was reckless and dangerous. You didn’t know him, but instead of being put off by his staring you felt strangely... _okay_ with it. You didn’t know him, had never seen him during any of your previous summer visits, but there was something familiar about him tugging at your heartstrings as if you already knew him, as if you guys had known each other your whole lives. It was a feeling you had never experienced before. You didn’t even know his _name_ , but you couldn’t help feeling that this man was somehow going to be important to you.

Maybe it was jet lag, too much cigarette smoke, thrown off your usual first day rituals, but being in his presence made you feel _alive_ , made you feel like you could truly be yourself. You didn’t have to be the perky, can fix anything, people pleaser that made you a such a good fit working at your moms wedding planner company. And you didn’t have to be the awkward fly on the wall third or fifth wheel when out with your friends. You felt like you could be yourself, whoever that was and it was _freeing_.

Inhaling the muggy night air you met his gaze. It was electric, inviting and you found yourself wanting to plop down on a lawn chair and spill to him all your secrets.

“Can we start over? I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky.”

Cheers erupted from inside the kitchen, but neither of you turned to look. In a matter of minutes the party was forgotten and you were fine with that.

“You new in town?”

“It’s that obvious?”

There it was, that smirk again, gentle lift of his shoulder in a shrug, another piece of hair escaping his man bun. In a way you supposed it _was_ obvious. It seemed as if everyone at the party were wearing leather jackets with the words _Howling Commandos_ stitched on the back and everyone had known who Natasha and Wanda were.

“Small town,” he said. “I know most of the people here, but you I don’t know.”

“Not true. I introduced myself before,” you quipped, feeling a sense of pride when he let out another throaty laugh. “Are you the welcoming committee in town? Cause if you are I gotta say you’re not doing too good of a job hiding out here.”

His laughter filled the porch and in that instant you knew you’d do anything to hear it again and again. It was so _warm_ like feeling the sun on your bare skin the first time after the end of a long winter.

“Maybe I was monitoring the situation out here. Gotta make sure no one comes barreling out and runs into the railing. Don’t want anyone getting hurt on my watch.” His eyes drank you in slowly, a smile cracking through his smirk waiting to see your reaction.

Biting back a laugh you shook your head at the banter feeling both out of your element, but somehow so at ease. “I’d say you need a little more work.”

“You do, huh? I dunno I thought my methods worked. Got _you_ to stop didn’t it?”

“Total fluke.”

“You sure about that, Y/N?”

The way he said your name had your heart beating straight out of your chest. He said it slowly, letting it roll across his tongue, confidently as if he was used to chatting up girls, making them feel special for a night or two. His hand moved to the railing, his pinky finger nudging yours. It was a light touch, _barely_ a touch at that, but the electric sparks it was emitting had you itching to grab him by the collar of his leather jacket and kiss him.

Consumed by the way his barely there touch had you feeling you didn’t notice at first the way he had stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the smoke from his earlier cigarette, the beer that he must have been drinking mixed with something woodsier. Your favorite scent had always been coconut, but now... now it was whatever was wafting off of him.

“So you know why I was out here, but why are _you_ out here?” You asked softly, not wanting to speak too loudly and break the spell. Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and back. His gaze followed suit.

“Told you why I was out here,” he murmured, voice just as low, fingers ghosting over your hand, circling your wrist.

Your eyes darted down to watch the way his long fingers danced over your bracelet. Resisting the urge to close your eyes at the relaxing touches you flinched when the patio door slid open, loud music spilling out, louder voices shouting in the distance, a drunken couple stumbling out the doors, lips attached, hands roaming.

“ _That’s_ why I’m out here,” he grumbled.

His words could have been referring to anything, but when his head turned to stare disdainfully at the couple tearing each other’s clothes off oblivious to their surroundings you murmured an _ah_ understanding.

“Should we...?” You asked, words trailing off when the woman let out an embarrassingly loud moan that rivaled that of a pornstars.

“C’mon.” His large fingers circled your wrist giving it a gentle tug.

You didn’t know him, but that didn’t stop you from following his lead as he led you down the patio steps and around the house to the front yard. The grass was cool when it rubbed against your ankles, laughter and bottles mixing and clinking together could be heard drifting from the open windows. The moon was only a crescent, but it somehow seemed to shine brighter out here than it did back home.

The front of the house was empty, but the line of motorcycles still lingered. Leading you to the front porch steps he sat down, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I’m disappointed, Bucky.” Turning your head to the side you caught a flicker of that beautiful smile that laced his lips and your only hope was that with your next set of words you could coax out another hearty laugh.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“As head of the welcoming committee in town you really should have welcomed them instead of running away.”

Bursting into laughter at the groan he let loose you nudged his shoulder trying hard to settle the way your heart sped up at the contact.

“Stick around long enough and you’ll be seeing more of them than you ever wanted to.”

“I feel like there’s a story behind that.”

“Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime.”

“Maybe I’d like that.”

A motorcycle roared to life before racing off down the street. A group of guys carrying cases of beers stepped around you and Bucky entering the house, their raucous and drunken laughter filling your ears. The moon subtly shifted its position in the sky. But through it all, the distractions that flitted around you urging your attention elsewhere your focus never left each other’s eyes as if you were magnets drawn to each other and in a way you supposed that was true.

“ _Bucky_!”

The voice was impatient as if they had been trying to grab his attention for awhile now. The spell you had fallen under was broken. A muttered curse word under his breath, a thin line of his lips, his head tilting to the side glaring at the man who had interrupted him, another piece of hair slipping from his bun.

For a minute no words were spoken and you felt caught in the middle, torn between ushering him towards the man calling his name and staying out of it.

“When you get done making googly eyes at your girl over there we could use your help in here, man.”

Staring down at your lap you tried to hide your smile at the way he had referred to you as _his girl._ You barely knew Bucky, certainly didn’t know his friend, but that didn’t stop the pattering of your heart or stretched smile.

“Sounds serious,” you commented, eyes lifting up to his.

“Probably a fight,” he muttered. Running a hand through his hair he heaved a sigh. The reluctance to leave was written across his face and you were pleased that the feeling was mutual.

“You should go. You know make sure nobody’s barreled through the railing out back,” you teased. The _last_ thing you wanted was for him to leave, but it was the right thing to do. Even so that didn’t stop the stinging in your chest or the worries that this would be it, the first _and_ the last time you saw him.

Standing up he exhaled a slow stream of breath. “Yeah,” he murmured lowly, more to himself than to you as if he had to talk himself into leaving.

Still, he didn’t make a move to leave. It was only when that impatient voice yelled for him again did Bucky yell back that he was coming.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

It wasn’t what you had been hoping for. You had hoped he’d ask for you number, maybe ask if he could see you again. Swallowing your disappointment you painted a smile on your face.

“It’s a small town, right?” You called out to him.

His smile was bright, lighting up the front porch steps. His laugh was rich, sending your heart racing. And when you turned around to get a final look at him your heart almost burst out of your chest when you saw him watching you too before he disappeared into the house.

“Wow,” Natasha smirked, arm looped through Wanda’s they strolled down the front steps coming to a stop where Bucky had been only moments before. “For someone who wasn’t excited about the party looks like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit.”

Keeping quiet for a second you struggled to gather your thoughts as Wanda looped her arm through yours and you began an unsteady walk back to the car. Choosing your words carefully you said, “It was... better than I expected it was going to be.”

Most of your experience with parties involved attending wedding receptions and those weren’t for enjoyment, those were part of your job working quickly to settle feuding family members, making sure to hand out coffee to the people toeing the line of tipsiness and embarrassingly drunk. In high school you had only ever gone to a couple parties too worried about your classmates would think of you to ever truly let loose.

“You should have given him your phone number,” Wanda said. Unlocking the car and unlocking your arms you slid into the backseat your head resting against the headrest, your fingers pushing the button that lowered the window.

“All done.” Natasha’s smirk was wide as she stared at you in the rear view mirror before starting the car.

“Natasha!” You yelped. “You can’t just give guys my number and don’t you think if he _wanted_ it he would have asked?”

The radio blared to life as the car started, a semi familiar song blasting from the speakers, tires thrummed on the road, the mugginess of the night rushing in through the open windows.

Wanda reached forward to turn the volume down, but Natasha swatted her hand away. Their laughter mixed with the pumping bass flowed to the back seat where you smiled softly at them though they couldn’t see you.

“He was going to. I’m sure of it,” Wanda said. Twisting in her seat to face you her expression was open, tone confident and despite your own doubts about his intentions or lack there of you believed her.

Closing your eyes you let the music wash over you, your mind replaying the nights events over and over again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Earth to, Y/N,” Wanda teased. Sweetness dripped from her voice, fingers stabbing at the off button on the radio silencing an annoying jingle about cat food. With one hand on the steering wheel her other hand lightly touched your shoulder trying to draw you back into the conversation.

Your fingers furiously typed out a reply on your phone, wind from the open window dancing across your heated skin. Guilty as charged you shot her an apologetic smile, though with her gaze firmly fixed on the road ahead you couldn’t be certain she caught it.

“Sorry, I’m here.” Squinting into the sunlight that promised to linger for at least another hour you struggled to get your bearings in town. Wanda hadn’t told you where you were going when she bounced into the living room an hour ago, excitement radiating off her small frame, eyes gleaming with secrets waiting to burst. The only information she had doled out was that you were going out and Natasha would meet up later. 

The populated beach town bursting with people strolling down main streets, dogs and baby carriages following, groups of girls giggling and guys leering had given way to less people, bigger gaps between houses, sidewalks being replaced by fields. You had never been this far out of town before and though you missed the ocean with the sand and salt that drifted from her waves you found peace in the fact that out here you’d have a better chance at seeing the stars and moon.

“Where are we? Wait, better question, where are we going?” You doubted your questions would be met with answers, after all you had been begging her for hints and clues since she had found you in the living room.

The blinker clicked in a rhythmic tick, tick, tick, the tires of the car crunching over gravel as she made a right turn before pulling into a parking spot at the end of a gravel lot. 

“We’re here!”

 _Here_ was populated with motorcycles, some shiny screaming that they were brand new and ready to be shown off parked in neat rows while others looked older, mud caked to the sides giving off a lived in look parked more haphazardly. A group of guys were huddled around a shiny motorcycle clinking bottles of beer and talking in that too loud way that over confident men had. A small group of women lingered by the front door of the bar adorned in cute dresses and sky high heels.

Much like that night at the party you felt like an outsider as you and Wanda climbed out of the car in a sea of motorcycles. Again, everyone seemed to know who she was from the girls huddled by the door to the guys that looked like outsiders with their gelled hair, their jeans that were a little too neat. They reeked of money, of show offs with their shiny bikes, and try too hard attitudes. The complete opposite of Bucky and his friends with their worn in leather jackets, the bikes that you could tell were used and loved, not props brought out to impress the tourists.

Which was exactly what you were. Frowning you paused by the car door, eyes sweeping from the gravel to the motorcycles to the brick building that sat in front of you. It was clearly a bar, one you hadn’t been to before, one you hadn’t ever heard mentioned either. Raising your eyebrows in question you wondered why she had dragged you this far out of the city when there were plenty of bars back there.

“Wanda,” you sighed.

It was hard to be angry at her when she was looping her arm through yours, her small frame attempting to tug you towards the door of the bar, but you held firm, planting your feet into the gravel, unwilling to move until you got answers.

“Who’s idea was it this time? Yours or Natasha’s?”

“What do you mean?”

Rolling your eyes at the innocent act she was _almost_ pulling off you yanked your arm free, crossing it over your chest, your foot tapping against the gravel as you waited her answer.

Since the night of the party they had subtly, at first, before you caught on and called them out on their behavior, been trying to push you and Bucky together. The first time it happened had been at the ice cream parlor late one afternoon. He had been standing in line with a blonde man who had later been introduced to you as Steve, his best friend. At the time you hadn’t thought much of it, but looking back now Wanda had been a little too eager, making too much out of running into them, but you had chalked it up to it being a small town, the excitement nipping through your bloodstream clouding your judgment. 

And just like that first night with sparks bursting from his pinky at the brief touch and pieces of hair falling from his bun you felt that undeniable pull, that connection, the whispered words that flowed through your body like the waves lapping at the shore during high tide telling you this was something special.

The four of you had settled in at a small table outside, pink umbrella shielding you from the sun, helping to keep your ice cream firm. The conversation had been kept light, easy, every bump of his knee against yours, every look that lingered just a second longer each time, every low rumble of his voice had you soaring higher and higher. 

By the time you had emptied your desserts with napkins balled up inside cups, chairs pressed tight together, the toe of his boot nudging your bare ankle, secret smiles shared between you, Steve and Wanda disappearing into the background you had fallen. Hard. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Wanda who had promptly filled Natasha in on the sparks that had flown.

Not even a day later and Natasha had dragged you away from the sandy shore of the beach where you had been busy dipping your toes into the water, eyes scanning for seashells, content to steal a few moments away for yourself. The peaceful solitude hadn’t lasted when she came to collect you giving you a story, one you had believed at first, about Wanda urgently needing you to run to the store to pick up missing ingredients for dinner.

With sand clinging to your toes, the sun still warming your cheeks and bare arms, the taste of the salty ocean air permanently staining your lips you had lagged behind Natasha who had been storming through the aisles of the grocery store. She hadn’t clued you in on what was so important it’d take two of you to find it, but when you had gotten distracted by the bakery cases, cookies designed with beach themes of lighthouses and mermaids and crabs, elaborate cakes decorated with flourish your mouth had watered and had she not yanked you by the hand leading you down the cereal aisle you would have easily spent the next ten minutes debating which sugary treat to splurge on.

The cereal aisle had been empty save for Bucky and another man, both wearing leather jackets. The stranger was tall, well built like Bucky and Steve, the deepest brown eyes you had ever seen making you wonder how many girls he had gotten to fall in love with him with those eyes only. And when he smiled it oozed warmth and charm and even without him speaking a word you found yourself drawn to the charisma that wafted from him. 

When he spoke acknowledging Natasha and offering you a simple hey, thousand watt smile shot in your direction you flashed back to the night of the party, of someone calling for Bucky and realized it was him. Small town.

After a brief round of introductions had been made Natasha had unconvincingly said she needed to talk to Sam leaving you alone with Bucky, the first time since the party.

You had half expected things to be awkward, after all this was the second time in a matter of days you had managed to run into him with your friends unwanted help, but like the party the conversation had flowed easily. The elevator music that drifted over the loudspeakers, the bright fluorescent lights that always seemed to wash everyone out except for him which only made him appear brighter, even the rushed mom gripping the hands of two unruly kids who were yelling about how they wanted ice cream barely registered. 

The only thing you could focus on were the pink tinged cheeks, the beefy build beneath that black leather jacket, his eyes that rivaled that of the oceans in their beauty and that smile, the smile that made you feel as if you were the only girl in the world. And when he asked you out for later that week you had immediately jumped at the opportunity before crashing back to earth, to the ugly tiled flooring, to the too bright fluorescent lights, to the way Sam and Natasha were peering around the corner aisle. Sam with that thousand watt smile, Natasha with that all knowing smirk. The two of them together, no attempt to hide their staring looked like two conniving children trying to get their parents back together instead of grown adults.

Shifting your weight from foot to foot you had asked for a rain check on the date before quickly spiraling, your words rushed, your heart hammering, your hands sweaty, your voice shaky as you tried to explain that you already had plans with Wanda that night, but another night would be perfect.

He had watched you with dancing blue eyes, shoulders relaxing, smirk planted on his face, slow exhale of a breath before reaching out for your wrist, fingers circling over your bracelet in a gesture that had you melting straight to the floor at the gentleness of his touch.

Assuring you that another night would be fine, reminding you that you had all summer, he had shot you a smile that you felt down to the very fibers of your soul.

You hadn’t gotten that date yet, but not for a lack of trying on either of your parts which was why standing by the car your eyes never wavering from Wanda’s you were skeptical about the true meaning of this trip out of town.

“We just want you to be happy,” she settled on. 

“Uh huh and my happiness is the reason we drove out here even though there are bars _in town_?”

“The drinks are really good?”

“You guys are relentless!” 

“One drink and if you’re not having fun we’ll call Natasha and tell her to meet us somewhere else.”

It was so hard to say no to her. With the suns warmth beating down on you making sweat glisten along your forehead and pool down the back of your neck to dampen your shirt you uncrossed your arms hating to admit that the idea of sitting in a darkened room, air conditioning on high and a cold drink in front of you _did_ sound appealing. But still you couldn’t help feeling that with their track records there was more to her driving you out here than she was letting on.

“Fine. But _only_ because it’s hot out here.”

“It’ll be fun!” Looping her arm back through yours she led you into the dimly lit air conditioned bar. Waving at Sam who was leaning against the counter flirting with a pretty raven haired girl she led you to a wobbly table near the back. “You’ll thank us for this later.”

Her words took a second too long to register and when they finally did your mouth dropped open, your eyes shooting daggers into her back as she leaned across the bar. You loved your friends, you really did, but at times their meddling could get tiresome. 

Tapping your nails on the table to the beat of the rock music that blared from the speakers you couldn't help noticing the subtle shift in Wanda when she returned. On the ride over you had been the one distracted, busy on your phone replying to messages while she had been the one focused. 

Now though the tables had turned. While you were focused on your surroundings, on the drinks, on trying to unravel her cryptic parting words she was busy staring first at the door where you had come through moments earlier and to the exit sign that you sat by craning her head as she looked into the back rooms of the bar. You had never seen her this distracted before. 

She was the kind of friend who gave you their undivided attention no matter what. The best person to call if you needed advice, or needed to rant and get something off your chest, but she was also the kind of person who had no problem sitting with you on the couch holding your hand, resting her head on your shoulder when you needed someone to sit with you in silence. Her distraction left you not for the first time tonight wondering exactly what was going on. 

"Seriously, what is so interesting about these doors?" You teased, craning your neck to try and see who or what had captivated her attention so much. In the dimness of the bar it was hard to see, but even if you could the pinch of her nails against the skin of your wrist had you yelping and turning your full attention back to her. "What the hell?"

"Don't look!"

"What? Why?" Ignoring her words you pulled your wrist away from her hand, your eyes squinting as you tried to figure out what she was hiding. It didn't take long to find. Even with the crappy lighting you could have spotted Bucky from a mile away. Entering the bar with Steve by his side they looked like a couple of models strutting into a photoshoot and it wasn't right he looked _that_ good. His hair was loose, hanging down by his shoulders, but he still had that leather jacket on despite the warmth outside. Torn between staring at him and risk having him see you or turning your attention back to your friend to yell at her for setting this up _again_ , you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him. Watching as they sauntered over to the bar you wondered what Steve had said that was so funny that had him throwing his head back in laughter.

“I told you not to look.”

“You can’t tell someone not to look and get upset when they do. That’s basically _inviting_ them to look.”

“I didn’t think you were going to look!”

“Then you shouldn’t have told me not to look!”

All it took was one look at her to get you to giggle and it wasn’t long before those giggles turned into fits of laughter with Wanda joining in soon after.

All it took was another look over your shoulder for your laughter to disappear as you caught Bucky’s gaze, the small nod of his head in acknowledgment. You shouldn’t have been surprised, between the motorcycles out front and her parting words before leaving to grab drinks you had suspected this was another setup, but suspecting it and having the confirmation staring at you were two different things.

“He saw me!” You hissed, turning your attention back to Wanda. “This is getting embarrassing! He’s going to think I’m stalking him!”

Waving your worries away with her hand she sat up straighter. “Don’t look, but he’s coming over here.” Her voice was far too bright for the situation. “Hi, Bucky.”

You were going to kill her. And Natasha. Settling for kicking at her beneath the table you bit back a laugh when she scowled at you before returning your kick with one of her own.

"Not interrupting, am I?" He asked, pulling a chair out, the legs scraping along the wooden floor before settling in. Leather and woods and smoke wafted from his jacket reminding you of the night at the party.

It was hard to keep a straight face, partly from the childish antics being played out with Wanda beneath the table, but also because sitting next to him made you feel like a teenager around a crush, all loose lipped, giddy, heart pattering, desperate to impress, to appear cooler than you really were for approval that in a few months time would mean nothing. But even with those thoughts swirling through your head, even without having been on a first date you couldn't help feeling that no matter what happened this summer with him he was always going to be an important part of your life in someway. 

"Of course not," you said quickly, shooting daggers in Wanda's direction that she chose to ignore. "We were just waiting for Natasha to get here."

"Speaking of I should go and give her a call see what's taking her so long." Kicking your foot blindly beneath the table you hissed when your toes smashed against the table leg instead of hitting her. Ignoring the fire that danced in your eyes at their setup she grabbed her drink and waved her hand making a show of stepping into the backroom for some privacy.

If he found her actions suspicious he didn’t say so and for that you were grateful.

“Run into anymore railings?”

“You’re _never_ going to let me live that down are you?” Laughing you began to relax for the first time since arriving. “How’s that welcoming committee going?”

“Only one person I had interest in welcoming.” He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on the wobbly table, voice thick like honey, eyes dragging up the length of your body, pink tongue wetting his lower lip.

Mimicking his pose your fingertips itched to feel the cool leather of his jacket, to taste the cigarettes on his lips, his tongue. But it was so much more than the physical you were itching to explore. You wanted to sit outside with him underneath the stars like the first night you met and talk about your lives, your wishes, your needs. You wanted to hold his hand and stroll down main street with him, wanted to go for a drive, windows rolled down, music blaring, laughing at everything and nothing at all, wanted to have so many inside jokes and cherished memories you could fill boxes with them. 

Like a fisherman casting a net out to sea he had caught you.

“There was only one person I was interested in welcoming me.” 

“That so?” Pushing a lock of hair behind his ear he inched forward, voice low as he asked, “You wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah.”

The triumphant smirk that tilted his lips upward, the way he dropped his elbows from the table, his hand reaching down for yours, fingers interlacing had you feeling as if you were on cloud nine until you remember your friends. You had never wanted to be the kind of person who dropped your friends when a new man came into your life. Truthfully, you had always judged people who did that, but it wasn’t until you stumbled into Bucky’s orbit did you realize how easy it was to be consumed by another person, how easy it was to forget that others existed.

“Wait,” you said, frustration bubbling up. At the rate you were going you weren’t sure you’d ever get that first date, but your friends would always come first. “I should check on Nat first. She should have been here by now.”

“Something tells me she’ll be okay.”

Your eyebrows knitted together and as you turned around you _knew_ that you were going to kill Wanda. Standing in the doorway to the backroom not even pretending to be on her phone she bounced on the balls of her feet, cheesy grin on her face, two thumbs up. Giving Bucky's hand a squeeze you excused yourself and made your way over to her. Already you missed the way his hand felt holding yours.

"Didn't I tell you you'd be thanking us later? Now, go!"

"Nat was never going to meet us here was she?" Shaking your head you wanted to laugh, wanted to tell them _again_ to stop interfering in your life, but you also wanted to thank them because if it wasn't for them pushing and shoving you weren't sure you'd have ever found the courage to seek him out on your own. "Are you sure it's okay if I go? I come here to spend time with you guys, not leave with guys that I meet at parties and-"

"Y/N," Wanda sighed, and you weren't sure you had ever heard her sound so exasperated before. " _Go_ Natasha and I want you to be happy and it's clear that he makes you happy so go and have fun and when you get home we expect a full detailed report of your night." Wrapping her arms around you in a hug she pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek. Giggling she added, "Natasha's been at home for the past hour waiting for me."

" _Relentless_ ," you laughed. "I'll see you guys later." 

It felt natural leaving your best friends arms and making your way over to Bucky, felt even more natural when he placed his large hand on the small of your back guiding you out of the crowded bar and into the parking lot. His touch heated you to the core and you were glad that he was behind you because you knew there was no way you were going to be able to wipe the smile off your face. 

The sky was turning cotton candy pinks and lilacs and golden yellows as the sun began its descent. Nighttime had always been your favorite in this sleepy little beach town when the stars would come out to twinkle and shine, when the moon would grow big and act as a guiding light, when the air began to cool down just enough to ease the stinging of the summer sun. It always made the nights feel infinite, as if anything could happen.

"I'm really sorry about them," you said, stopping at a black motorcycle. Nerves bubbled in the pit of your stomach at the thought of getting on, of getting on with Bucky. Shifting your weight from foot to foot you watched the way he dug in his jeans pockets for his keys, jingling them when he found them. With a smirk on his face you added, "They're not usually like that."

"Yeah, they are," he laughed. "Did the same thing to Steve and his girl Sharon."

"Let me rephrase that. They're not usually like that with me."

His smirk grew into a full blown smile and when he laughed, when he pushed a lock of hair behind his head as he bent to grab two helmets your mind ran at a thousand miles a minute trying to think of any way you could get him to laugh again. You knew right then that even if this night, this summer didn't end in anything more than you two being friends you'd gladly accept that if it meant you could keep hearing that laugh. Handing you a helmet he shot you another smile, his long fingers tugging the zipper of his jacket all the way up. 

"You ready?" 

The helmet was heavy in your hands, its weight weighing you down as you glanced between the bike and him. The nerves that you had been able to push down when hearing that laugh bubbled up to the surface. You could tell him the truth, that no, you weren't ready to get on that bike, that you were terrified. Or you could jump head first into the unknown, hoping and wishing that in the end he'd be there to catch you. 

"I'm ready." 

It was foolish and silly. Reckless and unlike you. But as you watched Bucky straddled the bike, his head turning to the side, you followed his lead, your arms instinctively wrapping around his middle, your head resting against the firm muscles of his back clad beneath his leather jacket. And when he started the bike up you were taken aback by how _loud_ it was. The roar had you jumping, had your arms tightening around him, had your heart racing, but as you closed your eyes, pressing closer to him, you couldn't stop smiling, at your behavior, at him, at this summer. The scent of leather and gasoline of salt and pine trees filled your senses, the wind whipping at your back, nipping at your bare legs, but instead of frightening you it did the opposite, thrilling you to the core. 

You didn't know where he was taking you, but you didn't care. Being on the back of his bike with him was enough for you.

When he finally pulled over and shut the bike off the silence was deafening. You could still feel the wind on your bare skin, could still hear the sound of the engine revving in your ears, could still smell pine and leather and woods that clung to him. Loosening your hold you slipped your helmet off, your eyes blinking a few times as you struggled to get your bearings. Stepping off the bike he placed his helmet on the seat he had vacated before holding his hand out to you and helping you off. Your legs felt like jello after being in motion and as you stumbled into his arms you couldn't stop smiling at the way he pulled you closer, the way he caught you so you wouldn't fall. And in that moment you didn't care where you were. He could have taken you to the edge of the world and it wouldn’t have mattered. Being in his arms, having him stare down at you so gently was the only place that you wanted to be right now.

"That your first ride?" He asked.

"It was that obvious?"

Still, he didn't loosen his hold on your arms and you didn't move your hands from his broad chest.

"'Bout as obvious as you being new in town."

"Fair enough," you laughed. Glancing between his eyes, his lips and your hands on his chest a thrill went through you when his gaze followed. "It was, but... I liked it." 

"Good, c'mon, somethin' I wanna show you." Releasing your arms he gently curled his hand around yours, tugging you forward and for the first time since stopping you were able to look around your surroundings. You still weren't sure where you were, but with every step your feet sunk into the sand and when you tilted your head upwards you let out a gasp at the stars that blanketed the night sky. It was beautiful and when you stopped walking to admire the sight you stumbled straight into his back. 

"What _is_ this place?"

"Private beach. Steve and I stumbled on it when we were teenagers. It's a bit of a drive, but it's worth it, yeah?"

It was more than worth it, but you couldn't get the words out. Wanda and Nat lived on the beach and so many of your nights with them were spent on the patio, blankets and towels spread out on the sand stargazing, a bottle of wine shared between you, talking about nothing and everything, but that view paled in comparison to the sight that greeted you. Out here the only house you could dimly make out was nothing more than a shack that sat at the end of the beach and the only light to guide you was that of the moon and the stars. It was secluded, quiet, beautiful, perfect. A stretched smile sat on your face and as you held onto his hand, twirling in circles, trying and failing to see all of the beauty this little piece of paradise offered you felt like a child all over again discovering the stars. 

"This is... you are... I can't..." Giggling as the words failed to complete a full sentence, head dizzy from your spinning you stumbled into his arms. You had barely had any of your drink, but you felt drunk. Drunk on the magic of summer, drunk on being alone with a guy that you liked, drunk on _happiness_ , drunk on the moon and the stars. 

Exhaling a slow breath, one hand still holding onto his, the other resting on that broad chest, fingertips smoothing over the leather of his jacket, your eyes sparkling, you looked up at him in wonder, in awe. "What's the real reason you brought me all the way out here?"

"What? A guy can't take a girl out to a private beach to look at the stars?"

"Oh, he absolutely can," you teased. 

Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, his fingertips danced down your bare arm before settling on your hip. "Maybe he got some information from friends that this particular girl had a thing for the stars. Maybe this guy wanted to impress her."

"In that case he definitely did impress her. I have to say I've never had a first date that involved stargazing." As soon as the words had left your mouth you wished you could take them back. 

"You think this is a first date?"

"I didn't mean it like th-"

Scoffing he tightened his hold on both your hand and your hip when you tried to pull away from embarrassment. "Most first dates I've been on aren't orchestrated by our friends." His voice was full of lightness and when he dipped his head down, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear you swore you were going to melt straight into the sand. "I promise you our first date is going to be much, much better."

Your eyes fluttered shut at the closeness of his body to yours, at the whispered words, at the promise of a first date with him. Curling your fingers around his jacket you breathed in deeply wishing that your friends were here to help you with what to say. You had never been good talking to guys, especially not guys that you really, really liked. Squeezing his hand you focused on the way you could hear the ocean lapping at the sand, focused on the way his gentle and even breaths were still playing against your ear, focused on the way that your heart hammered beneath your chest reminding you that this was real, that this was happening. 

"You talk a big game, Bucky Barnes, you sure you can promise something better than this?"

"If you're free this weekend let me show you." 

"I'm free."

"Good." 

* * *

The engine cut through the silence of the night as Bucky pulled up in front of your friends house. Climbing off the bike you half expected him to drive away, not to climb off too and definitely not to reach for your hand walking you up the front steps and to the door. It may not have been a first date, or even a date for that matter, but it certainly felt like one. After spending another hour on the beach holding hands, looking at the stars, pointing out the constellations, dipping your toes into the icy cold water he had with regret in his voice suggested getting you home before your friends kicked his ass. But with the threat hanging in the air and over your heads neither of you had been eager to leave. 

The porch steps creaked and groaned with two sets of feet climbing them. The lights inside the house were off, but by now you knew your friends well enough to know that they were more than likely spying on you and Bucky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

"So," you said, smile in your voice, back leaning against the wooden frame of the front door, hands swinging between you. 

"So," he said, smirking down at you, leaning into your body, your touch. 

You didn't even try to keep the smile off your face or try to hide the fact that you were falling hard for him as you stared up into his baby blue eyes. You were sure the eagerness was written across your face, but you didn't care. You _wanted_ him to know that you liked him, wanted the whole beach town to know that you were falling, falling hard for Bucky Barnes. 

"I had a lot of fun tonight." 

"So did I."

Laughing you dipped your head down. Truth be told you'd have been more than happy to spend the rest of the night standing on the front porch, getting your legs and arms and neck chewed up by mosquitoes, feeling the stares of Wanda and Natasha boring through the wooden front door, holding onto his hand, smiling at him. But with how quiet the streets were, with how no one had any lights on in their houses you knew it had to have been late by now, but still, much like at the beach you were reluctant to leave his side even with knowing that in a matter of days you'd be seeing him again, this time without your friends interference. 

"I should probably let you go," you laughed. "You know before they come running out here to check on us."

"I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

Nodding your head yes you didn't trust yourself to speak right now without admitting how excited you were. Slowly, he let go of your hand, his fingertips brushing against yours in a barely there touch that made your heart skip a beat beneath your chest. 

Turning to go you watched the way the muscles in his back rippled beneath his jacket, watched the way his foot rested on the top step of the stair, watched the way he shook his head before abruptly turning around to face you. And you watched the way he stalked towards you, his eyes hungry, his tongue swiping against his lower lip. And when he stepped in front of you filling up your personal space you watched in wonder the way his large hand cupped your cheek, the way he dipped his head down, the way your hands automatically knew to rest on his shoulders as he pressed his chest against yours, his lips against yours. The kiss was slow, warm and you swore to god you saw fireworks bursting behind your eyes, swore you could hear a symphony playing in your mind. Tonight may not have been a first date, but there was no denying that this was a first kiss and a special one at that. 

"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered against your lips and just like that he was pulling away, stepping out of your personal space and walking back down the steps, back to his bike. With his back turned to you again you had no way of knowing just how big that smile on his face was. 

Closing your eyes you listened to the sound of the engine roaring to life and when all you could smell was the exhaust from the pipes, when all you could feel were the ghost of his lips against yours, when you swore your face was going to break from smiling so much you stepped into the house. 

The lights were still off, but by the giggling that could be heard amongst the whispered _shhhhs_ you not only knew that they had been watching but that they were close by. Nothing could break the good mood that you were in. Flipping the light switch on you called out, "We're going out this weekend." 

Popping their heads up from behind the couch their smiles were smug and you knew it was only a matter of time until they chimed in with the _I told you sos_ and _You can thank us anytime_ and _See? Told you it'd be worth it!_

"How was your night?" Wanda asked, standing up and walking towards you. 

"What she's trying to ask is how was your _kiss_? No holding back on details either!"

“Did he take you the beach like we told him to?”

“Seriously. The kiss! How was it?”

Tracing your lips with the tip of your pointer finger you couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear and not even the rapid fire questions being shot at you could darken your mood. Walking over to the couch you settled on the big cushions drawing your knees up to your chest. "Okay, so...," you said filling them in on all the details of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

" _Here's Johnny_!"

Jumping for what felt like the hundredth time since the movie began you buried your head in Bucky's neck breathing in the smell of his soapy skin. The stubble from his beard tickled your face almost as much as when you could feel his chest rumbling beneath your hand from his deep laughter. Stretched out on an oversized blanket, your shoes tossed near the bottom, his leather jacket laying next to him, your body curled into his side, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders quick to pull you closer anytime something even remotely scary played out across the screen. There were still kernels of popcorn littered across the blanket from when you had knocked the box over early on in the movie from jumping that neither of you had bothered to sweep away. A near empty cup of soda sat by his jacket, but with the mugginess of the night you were sure that the ice had melted giving it a strange flavor by now. A half eaten box of candy laid next to the soda forgotten. The park was crowded, families and couples spread out on lawn chairs and blankets and towels. Some paying more attention to the movie than others. Arriving early you and Bucky had found a spot near the back of the park that had been left secluded which had been perfect seeing as how you had spent more time with your head buried in his neck than actually watching what was playing out across the screen.

"It's almost over," he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

With a quick shake of your head you curled further into his body giggling when his hand trailed between your shoulder blades, down your back before landing on your ass and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Bucky!" You giggled, swatting at his chest. 

The truth was you didn't want the movie to be over. Sure, you weren't enjoying it, horror movies had never been your kind of thing and even when Bucky had been shocked that you had never seen such a classic you had been game for laying in the park underneath the stars with him. But if the movie ended it meant the end of your date and though you had been spending near everyday and night with him since your first date you had yet to grow tired of him. 

Your friends had teased you saying that they had created a monster by pushing you together, but they had also been serious when saying they had never seen each of you quite so happy and it was true. Every song on the radio reminded you of him, every thought before going to bed was of him, every thought when you first woke up was of him. Of what his plans were for the day when you weren't together, of what your plans would be for the night when you'd meet up. Even things that had no association with him such as baking with Wanda early in the morning before it became too hot to do so made you think of him. Spending afternoons with Natasha browsing through the boutiques downtown made you think of him. Picking up tacky and too expensive tourist gifts made you think of him. 

You had never felt like this before. 

And suddenly every love song, every woman in romance novels and movies, every happy couple you stumbled upon made you think of him. Since the night you had met him you were positive the smile had never left your face, were positive the beating of your heart was spelling out his name beneath your chest, was positive you would never feel this way again. And though you knew it was too soon to be falling in love late at night after he dropped you off from whatever adventure you two had found yourselves on laying in bed staring up at the ceiling mind replaying every kiss, every touch, every word, analyzing everything that had happened and dreaming up everything that would happen you couldn't help wondering if you _were_ falling in love. 

"Still with me, pretty girl?"

Smiling against his neck you pressed a quick kiss to his stubbled skin before leaning your head on his shoulder and staring at him. By now there was no point in pretending to finish watching the movie you had missed so much of. But you weren't sure you would have paid attention even it was something you had _wanted_ to see. The truth was being with him made it hard to concentrate on your surroundings. When he had brought Sam and Steve over for a game night during a torrential rainstorm it had been impossible to focus on the game at hand when all you were aware of was the way he'd smirk at you from across the dining room table, the way every time he'd get up to grab another beer or another bag of chips for the group his fingers would brush across your shoulder, across the back of your neck setting your skin alight with goosebumps, the way his lips would land on the top of your head, your cheek, the words that he would whisper in your ear, secrets meant for only the two of you. He made you feel like the only one in the room.

"Yeah," you finally said. "Remind me again _why_ they thought this was an appropriate movie to put on?"

"Would Jaws have been better? What happened when you saw that movie again?" He teased, his arm tightening around you when you shoved at his chest. 

"She never should have told you that," you laughed, a flush of embarrassment coursing through you. 

When Bucky had arrived to pick you up, still coming to the door and knocking even after weeks dating, Natasha had told him how when you were kids the city had put Jaws on and you had refused to go anywhere near the ocean for the rest of the summer for fear of getting eaten by a shark after he had mentioned the plan for tonight. He had tried his best to stifle his laughter, you, on the other hand had been mortified. Like a true gentleman he had waited until you got outside. Halfway down the steps he had turned back to you, smirk planted on his face, fingers interlaced with yours before saying _Jaws, huh?_ That was all it took for the embarrassment to increase, but the way he laughed, the way he had squeezed your hand, the way he had leaned forward, warm breath against your mouth, lips so close he could have kissed you again, instead he had said it was cute and that was all it had taken for a smile to break out on your face, for the sting of embarrassment to ease just the tiniest bit when he laughed. 

"And for your information I'm able to watch Jaws without getting too scared. This however...," you said, your words trailing off, your fingertips dancing over his chest, your eyes firmly locked on his, any pretense of pretending to watch the movie long forgotten when you'd much rather watch him. 

"The twenty minutes you saw was too scary?" He teased, the palm of his hand smoothing down your back causing goosebumps to arise on your bare arms, causing your body to instinctively arch into his touch, causing your bare legs to brush up against jean clad ones, causing your heart to stutter and your mind to marvel at how such an innocent touch could fill you with such a burning desire. 

"I saw more than that!" You laughed. “I know you said this movie is a classic, but I don’t understand why.” Shrugging your shoulders you jumped at the scream that pierced through you. You wanted to bury your head back in his neck, wanted to close your eyes and pretend it was only the two of you under the stars, silence sheltering you instead of in a park surrounded by people, but he had other ideas as his callused hand grasped your chin keeping your eyes firmly on his.

"'S okay, I got you pretty girl.” His eyes traveled a path from yours to your lips and back again, each trail causing your breath to hitch with anticipation and longing. When you couldn’t take it anymore, when the screams on screen echoed through the park you barely reacted this time. And when he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips tasting like the warmth of the sun and the magic of the night you sighed in bliss.

Your own lips moved against his as if you’d spent your life kissing him and when his tongue danced across your lower lip begging for entrance you eagerly complied. Moaning against him you could feel his lips curling up into a smile, could feel the way his hands clutched against your shirt dragging you impossibly closer to his stretched out body. Only too eager to comply you gasped when he broke the kiss, your breath coming out in uneven pants. Grinning he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

A round of applause drifted through the park, voices rising and falling, his hand fell from your chin, your eyes blinking through the fog from the kiss, briefly darting towards the screen to the see the end credits rolling. Couples holding hands passed by you, groups of teenagers and families, tires squealing on the pavement and horns honking filled the park until it was only you and Bucky stretched out on the blanket alone and under the stars like you had wanted. 

Sitting up your eyes swept through the once packed park. The silence was eerie after spending hours listening to the shrill screams of the actors and listening to Bucky’s whispered teasing words every time you jumped or shrieked. Turning your head to the side and catching a glimpse of him awash in the moonlight and the few streetlights that illuminated his frame you smiled. Hair pulled back in a tight bun, even tighter tee shirt stretched over his taut muscles, light stubble covering his face the only word that came to mind as you shamelessly checked him out was how _sexy_ he looked propped up on his elbows.

“You in a hurry to leave?” He teased.

“Definitely not.”

Reaching for your wrist he gave it a gentle tug, a smile lighting up his face when you let out another laugh.

It may have only been a few weeks since you had gotten together, but you had already found a rhythm, each of you in tune with the other, knowing what one needed with minimal words exchanged. Taking advantage of the isolation you straddled his waist, one hand tangling in his pulled back hair, the other cupping his stubbled cheek. Your eyes briefly fluttered closed when his large hand moved to your back, holding you steady before bunching up your shirt, pushing you impossibly closer to his broad chest while his other hand rested on your thigh, pushing your shorts up higher. Resting your forehead against his you basked in the closeness and warmth that radiated from his body as your thumb brushed over his stubble.

“Not scared being out here alone are you?” Words nothing more than a whispered tease, fingertips stroking along the exposed skin of your thighs. 

Dipping your head down you pressed a delicate kiss to his mouth. "No,” you laughed, only half telling the truth. You kissed him again, longer this time, but still as sweet, as if each of you had nothing but time and in a way you supposed that was true, at least for tonight. 

The hand on your back slid upwards, cupping the back of your neck, holding you steady as he broke the kiss, his lips leading a trail of open mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. Dropping your hand from his face you gripped his shoulder, nails digging in as his lips focused on the most sensitive parts of your neck. Your breath hitched, your hips unconsciously moving over his, moans and giggles dancing on the edge of your tongue only to be swallowed down when he spoke in a teasing whisper, "Nothing to be scared of. The nearest hotel is at least two blocks over.”

Laughter erupted from your kiss swollen lips, but in a matter of seconds it was replaced by a breathy moan followed by a gasped _oh_ when he began to work his lips down your throat and up the other side of your neck. Sharp teeth grazed against your heated skin, his hand gripping your hip a little tighter to hold your squirming body closer. 

An owl hooted in the distance, the hum of a cars tires traveling over the empty road passed by, crickets chirped their night songs, your uneven breaths filling the muggy night air. Running your nails down the back of his neck you listened to the way his own uneven breath mixed with yours, the way his groans became muffled against the bruised skin of your neck, the way his leather jacket rustled against his legs when he shifted his body, each sound seeming to become amplified in the emptiness of the park, each sound seeming to add another verse to your growing love story. 

"Maybe next time we should skip the movie and stay at your place," you murmured. Cupping his warm face beneath your hands you kissed him softly once before pulling back.

"Last time we went to my place you complained cause we couldn't see the stars," he retorted.

"Not true!" you laughed, the sound echoing throughout the park. "Last time you came over to Nat and Wanda's _you_ complained because we weren't alone." 

"Cause we weren't."

"So your solution was to take me to a park, make me watch a horrible movie so after it was over we could make out in peace?" 

It was slow, the way his lips curled up into a smirk before blowing up into a full blown smile. It was slow, the way his hand on the back of your neck loosened its hold before ghosting down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles in your shirt that he had caused. It was slow, the way the twinkle in his eyes appeared reminding you of that long ago shooting star you had seen and wished upon at the edge of summers return. It was slow, the way he finally said, "Not exactly."

And it was slow the way he let his eyes dance between yours and your lips and back again. Slower even when your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head down just a little to capture his plump lips in another sweet kiss. The truth was you'd gladly sit through every horror movie in existence if it meant he'd be by your side holding you close and whispering jokes in your ear during the scary parts to distract you. 

"It was Sam's idea," he mumbled with reluctance. "I know how much being outside and seeing the stars means to you and when I asked Sharon for advice he suggested the movie. Didn't find out until I picked you up your history with scary movies, but by then it was too late to figure out something else." 

Like a final puzzle piece sliding into place to complete the picture his words made everything clearer. The majority of your dates had been outside. Long drives on the back of his motorcycle through winding roads that took you farther out of town than you'd ever been in all your years visiting, ice cream dates and strolls through the downtown, private beaches and bonfires pointing out the constellations. Even when your dates involved dinner under fluorescent lights or having game nights inside with your friends, all of you piled onto cushions and floors and couches watching movies, sharing bowls of popcorn and laughs that had tears streaming down your faces, even when it was something simple as having him cook you dinner, he always ended the night with you under the stars. Even your afternoon dates, the times when you'd meet up for coffee and lunch, the few times you had gotten him to agree to go to the beach with you, swimming in the ocean, screaming because the water was still ice cold against your bare skin, falling onto the sand and not caring that it was coating your skin, that it'd leave you itchy in a few hours times he'd still call you at night, asking you to go outside, stand beneath the stars as he said goodnight. It didn't matter if it was cloudy and you couldn't see them or if it was raining that final kiss, that final goodbye, that final touch of his fingertips against yours as he turned around to head back to his bike always ended outside. You couldn't believe you hadn't seen it sooner, seen how much thought and preparation he put into your dates, your time together. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, straddling his waist, your hands still cupping his face, your eyes searching his so deeply you swore you could see what was written on his soul. Didn't know how long he stayed holding your waist, his gentle breaths as even as the night that surrounded you. 

Every time you parted your lips to speak the words died out. You knew there weren't enough words in the English language to begin to tell him how you were feeling. Your body was brimming with love and appreciation and awe and wonder for the man that you had the fortune of running into that first night back. 

"You are amazing," you settled on, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess, but you didn't have time to care or second guess as you leaned down, slamming your lips against his in a kiss that you prayed would tell him everything you weren't able to say out loud. His arm tightened around your waist pulling you closer, closer, closer, until you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. If you could spend the rest of your life kissing him so deeply you swore you could taste the colors that lined his soul you would have. You'd have gladly given up the rest of your summer to stay wrapped up in his arms like this. "It makes me like you _almost_ as much as I like the stars."

"Almost?" He scoffed with a warm laugh that had the crinkles around his eyes scrunching up. "That kiss says otherwise." 

"Mhm, almost. The stars never made me sit through horrible movies..."

With blue eyes narrowed and a quickness that had you giggling into the night he rolled you onto your back, his body hovering over yours, but instead of being able to enjoy the position you hissed in discomfort. 

"You okay?" Voice full of worry he was even quicker to move off of you.

"I landed on your zipper." Sitting up you tugged his jacket away and tossed it to the other side of the blanket. "And I think the soda too." You could feel the dampness soaking through your shirt and one look at your side confirmed the crushed cup leaking out the remainder of melted ice and sugary sweet water. Shoving it aside along with the container of popcorn you inspected the edge of the blanket looking for anything else that could be dangerous. Coming up empty you laid back down, your hand reaching out for his wrist as you pulled him down. "The stars _also_ never hurt me like that," you teased.

Cupping your cheek gently in one hand his other hand rested on your waist, fingers dipping below the hem of your shirt, dancing along your side, tickling and tantalizing you. "Yeah," he breathed out, breath ghosting across your still swollen lips. "But can the stars make you feel as good as I can?”

Lost in a daze of warm kisses and hotter touches you forgot about the movie, your damp shirt, forgot even about how you were still in public and anybody could come across you. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel good with his lips and his mouth and his expert touches. 

* * *

“ _What_?” You asked, turning around and leaning against the kitchen counter, glass in your hand. Taking a greedy gulp you placed your glass in the sink before crossing the kitchen and pulling out a chair.

After Bucky had dropped you off you had tiptoed through the house assuming both Wanda and Natasha would have been asleep by now, but creeping into the kitchen to grab something to drink you had stumbled upon Natasha, feet propped up on the chair, smirk gracing her lips, gaze following you around the spacious room.

“Trying to figure out why your shirt is wet and you have grass in your hair is all. Must have been a good movie.”

Frantically combing your hands over your hair you were embarrassed to realize she had been right.

Ignoring her words you watched as the grass clippings floated along the kitchen floor with each whirl of the ceiling fans blades. 

“It was perfect,” you gushed. Your body may have been in the kitchen, but your mind was back in the park with him.

“The Shining was perfect?”

“No. Tonight was.”

There was no way to hide how happy you were. 

Leaning forward in the high backed chair you slid your elbows onto the table resigned to the fact that sleep wouldn’t be coming easy tonight and you were more than okay with that.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Even though it felt like you would burst at the seams with happiness and wanted to shout it from the rooftops how much you liked him, how much tonight meant to you, how he was the first guy to ever make you feel things you had only ever read about and watched you didn’t want to bombard her with the details yet. You wanted to spend a few more hours with the nights events close to your chest. 

“Not yet. I think I’m going to call it a night.” 

“Y/N?”

Pausing by the doorway, mind still on Bucky you turned to her only giving her half your attention.

“Make you sure you wash that blanket.”


	4. Chapter 4

"How come never cooked for us before?" Wanda asked.

"Last time she cooked she almost burned the kitchen down," Natasha added, laughing when Wanda's eyes grew wide with a mix of shock and worry.

Standing over the wooden cutting board you ignored them as you concentrated on slicing cucumbers and tomatoes for salad. "That's not completely true," you muttered under your breath. Wiping your hands on the red apron you had borrowed from Wanda you walked over to the stove checking on the potatoes.

"You never told me that."

"Because it was a long time ago," you started, opening the oven door to check on the chicken. "And I'm not going to burn down the kitchen so please stop looking so worried, Wanda."

A snort came from the other side of the room. "It was two years ago when she was dating that guy Eric."

"The musician?"

"Are we _really_ doing this right now?" You groaned. 

Ignoring you she continued, "That's the one. She tried making him a fancy dinner and when he got there how'd you say it happened again?" Smirking she snapped her fingers. "The lust overcame you and you guys went at it like rabbits."

"Okay, okay, first off," you started, raising your voice to be heard over their peals of laughter, "Natasha is lying I did not say anything like that! Although I _might_ have gotten distracted when he came over and we _might_ have had sex making me forget about dinner and there _may_ have been a small fire in the kitchen, but it didn't burn down! And Wanda, _please_ stop looking at me like that because I promise you that's not going to happen tonight!"

"Which part isn't happening tonight, Y/N?" Nat teased.

"I hate you." Untying the apron you focused on folding it into neat squares while trying to ignore Natasha's laughter and Wanda's growing nerves as she hovered around you, checking the boiling potatoes and chicken roasting in the oven. "Also, for the record it was different with Eric. Our whole relationship was about sex and with Bucky... it's deeper than that. I've never felt this way about someone else before and..." Letting your words trail off you stared down at the counter, your fingers running over the apron. "After the movie in the park and all the dates he's taken me on I wanted to do something nice for him so no, tonight is not going to be a repeat of the disaster with Eric and you guys have nothing to worry about. We're going to have a nice homemade dinner and that's it."

Greeted with silence you looked up to find Natasha scribbling down the number for the fire department and Wanda again hovering by the stove.

"You guys really have no faith in me," you sighed. "I made brownies this morning and you weren't worried."

"That was before," Wanda murmured, fingers turning down the burner of the stove.

"I _promise_ you by the time you get home the kitchen will still be here, everything will be cleaned up and-"

"You and Bucky will be making out on the counter again?" Natasha added, deftly catching the apron you threw at her.

"Wanda!" You snapped. "You said you weren't going to tell her about that!"

"She went into some very graphic details about where she saw your hands disappearing."

"I hate both of you," you muttered. Heat burned your face and you couldn't tell if it was from the conversation, the oven being on during the heat of summer or the memories of that late night in the kitchen with Bucky kissing you until your lips were swollen, exploring his body with your fingers and hands until you swore you knew it as well as yours.

Ignoring their laughter and the way you could _still_ feel your face burning you glanced over at the clock. "Shouldn't you guys be leaving?"

"Someone's eager for us to be gone."

"I'm not eager," you lied. "But you guys don't want to be late. You know traffic and parking and all that."

"Uh huh. I get it. I think she wants some _alone time_ with Bucky. Come on, Wanda."

Peeking into the oven again Wanda fiddled with the knobs of the stove. "We could help you finish dinner first."

Exchanging a look with Nat across the kitchen you watched the way she went over to Wanda, slinging an arm around her shoulder and murmuring something you couldn't quite hear, but still she didn't budge. 

"I _promise_ that I'm not going to burn the kitchen down. Natasha exaggerated what happened with Eric. You guys have nothing to worry about. I've got this under control."

* * *

  
Twenty minutes later and you did not have it under control. 

After darting upstairs to freshen up you had stepped out of the shower only to catch your first whiff of smoke. Thinking nothing of it you had taken your time in searching for something to wear. But as the minutes ticked by the ashen smell grew stronger until you couldn’t ignore it anymore and when the piercing screech of the smoke detector blared in your ears you had raced downstairs. Tugging your dress on only half aware it was on backwards you skidded to a stop at the edge of the kitchen.

The piercing screech was amplified downstairs as smoke filled the kitchen, billowing out into the living room. Acting on instinct you raced to the oven, flinging the doors open only to be met with more smoke. Coughing, eyes burning with tears you waved it away before reaching for a pair of oven mitts and pulling the pan out.

Burned beyond repair you slammed the pan onto the stove, the _thunk_ reverberating throughout the kitchen. Hours of preparation for tonight ruined in a matter of minutes. Tossing the mitts onto the counter you ran a hand over your hair determined not to cry, but it was so hard when all you had wanted was tonight to be perfect, a small thank you for all the time and thought he had put into your dates and it was ruined.

Letting the screen door slam shut as you left behind the smoke filled house you inhaled the saltiness of the ocean and the sweetness of freshly cut grass. Sitting on the bottom step of the front porch, brain trying to come up with a plan b for tonights date, clean feet getting dirtier by the second as you ran them over small pebbles, loose piles of dirt, grass clippings from early this morning when you had cut it. In the distance you could hear the familiar rumbling of Bucky's motorcycle, the soundtrack to your summer. 

Like a child eagerly waiting for the ice cream truck to drive down their block on those hot summer days you stood up, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you watched Bucky effortlessly maneuver the motorcycle to a stop in front of the house. No matter how many times you watched from the living room, peering through the curtains, or standing on the front porch watching him leave you would never get tired of the way he so easily climbed on and off as if the bike was _part_ of him and in someways you supposed that was true. Meeting him halfway the sidewalk burned the bottoms of your feet, but you paid it little mind as you flung you arms around his shoulders, inhaling that familiar scent of exhaust and woods and _him_. The smells of your summer.

"Hi," you breathed, lips landing on the corner of his mouth as you struggled to break the news to him. 

"What happened? Are you okay?" Eyebrows knitted together, callused hands resting on your shoulders before gliding down your arms, gaze scrutinizing your body looking for any sign of injury before briefly glancing to the house. 

"I'm fin-,"

"You're not." Sliding his hands up to your face he cupped your still warm cheeks, striking eyes filling with a cloudiness, voice gruff. "Something happened, pretty girl."

Guilt pooled in the pit of your stomach for making him think the worst. "I'm _fine._ " 

"That why your dress is on backwards and you're out here waiting for me?"

"Maybe I missed you." Warmth found its way onto your face and though you wished you could blame it on the mugginess of the night you knew it had more to do with the current situation. "Okay, okay, there may have been a little accident in the kitchen, but I didn't burn anything this time. Technically I burned dinner and the kitchen is probably still filled with smoke, but other than that I'm _fine_."

"This time?" He laughed and like the waves washing away sand castles you could feel the guilt and the worry about trying to impress him tonight washing away. 

"I tell you I burned dinner and I ruined our date and the only thing you take away is that I've done this before?" His laughter was infectious.

"You didn't ruin our date," he murmured, offended at the thought that you would ever think that. Dropping his hands from your face he rested them on your waist, tugging you closer to him. It was too hot to be held, but that didn't stop you from resting your head on the burning leather of his jacket or to let out a content sight when he kissed the top of your head. 

"I did though." Voice muffled against his chest you pulled back enough to stare up into his eyes. "You've been planning all these amazing dates for us and I wanted to do something nice in return and instead I made a huge mess and dinner was gonna be good, like _really_ good, Bucky. Better than your chocolate chip banana pancakes good."

"That so, pretty girl?"

"Mhm." 

"Weren't you the one who said my pancakes were the best thing you ever ate?" Dipping his head down so his mouth was pressed against your ear he whispered, "Weren't you the one who _moaned_ after the first bite? Said they were as good as that orgasm I gave you the night before?"

You swore the temperature rose a hundred degrees on that sidewalk and it had nothing to do with the night air. Opening and closing your mouth you were at a loss for words.

“Hm?” 

“Brownies,” you blurted, a twinge of embarrassment working its way through you. “I made some brownies this morning which unlike dinner aren’t burned.”

“Brownies? You trying to distract me?”

Laughing you shrugged your shoulder. “Maybe,” you said, drawing the word out until he was laughing too, until he was leaning down and kissing you, until you momentarily forgot about dinner, until you were so happy you swore you would sink straight down into the cement. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Kissing you again, a little longer this time, one hand sliding to your lower back holding you close. “C’mon, I’ve got an idea.”

* * *

  
His idea turned out to be brownie sundaes shared on the patio, double scoops of vanilla ice cream dripping with extra whip cream and enough chocolate sauce to make your teeth ache. Watching as the sky turned from rosy pinks reminding you of the way he’d blush to deep purples that reminded you of the wildflowers that dotted the grassy fields on the drives he’d taken you on outside the city. And when the pinks and purples of the sky changed to deep blue to black, when the stars came out, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and eating too many sweets you had grabbed his hand, leading him down the steps and onto the sandy beach.

Deserted, stars twinkling above, your bare feet sinking into the damp sand, cool ocean water running over your toes, holding hands, his rich laughter drifting outward when he teased you about Jaws getting you when you dared to wade a little further into the dark water.

Tugging you back to shore, your feet kicking up water, your own laughter joining his when you accidentally splashed him, soaking the bottoms of his jeans. Feet and legs wet, sand sticking to your skin like sugar on fried donuts you stumbled into his open arms deliriously happy.

“Careful there,” he laughed, so reminiscent of that first night you met. 

“I’m always careful.”

“That why you burned dinner?”

“You’re never gonna let me live _that_ down either are you?” 

“Not a chance.” Pulling you close to his side he wrapped his arm around your waist, your feet sinking into the sand as you continued your lazy stroll along the beach. 

Almost back to the house you paused your steps gaze swiveling to the patio where the light was still on illuminating the wicker furniture, the piles of fluffy blankets and oversized pillows you used during your girls nights, the same set that you used when it became too hot upstairs, the fans and open windows doing nothing to cool you off as you slinked down the stairs and settled in for a night sleeping out under the stars. The kitchen light was still off telling you that your friends weren't home yet. Except for the waves rolling against the shore it was quiet out. Down the beach you could see a bonfire, the orange flames dancing in the night as a small group of friends huddled around the warmth. 

"Why were you so worried when you came over?" You hadn't meant to blurt it out, but since his arrival and the worry that had seeped from him even after you told him you were fine to the way he had been so tense in the kitchen watching those final curls of smoke float around the ceiling you could tell something had been bothering him.

"I told you," he murmured, voice a little gruff, arm tightening around your waist as he led you in the direction of the stairs.

Holding firm you dug your feet into the sand. "Come on I'm serious. You were weird. I've waited for you outside before and in the kitchen? You saw the smoke and you just shut down. I've never seen you act like that before so talk to me."

Dropping his arm from your waist he said, "'Bout two years before we moved here there was an accident." Silently climbing the stairs after him you shivered when he reached for your hand, pulling you down onto the lush pile of blankets and pillows. 

"Got into some trouble with another biker group." Refusing to meet your eyes he stared out at the horizon. "Started off small with fights. Didn't take long for things to escalate. Sure you wanna hear the rest?"

"Nothing you say is going to make me think less of you, Bucky Barnes," you whispered. Lifting your hand to his face your thumb smoothing over his stubbled cheeks and jaw, tracing the plumpness of his lower lip, you smiled softly when he relaxed into your touch and met your eyes.

"They weren't good people, Y/N. It was a small town, they were ruining it by running drugs through. When we got word we tried to stop them and." A pause. A deep breath. A humorless chuckle. "We confronted them, got them to leave and thought that was the end. Couple months later our bar burned down." 

Another pause. Another deep breath. Eyes turning downwards. "Nobody got hurt, but they burned it to the ground. Didn't take a genius to figure out who was behind it. After that we left town. Haven't seen 'em since, but tonight when I saw you sittin' on the porch, your dress on backwards the only thing I could think about was they were here and hurt you. Then in the kitchen when I saw the smoke, dunno, guess I went back to that night."

"Jesus," you breathed, at a loss for words. It was the deepest you had ever delved into your pasts and sitting next to him on a floral blanket, the patio light bathing him so that you could see the pain in his eyes, could see the way his shoulders were hunched as if by telling you he was _still_ worried you'd think less of him. Seeing him so vulnerable next to you had your heart shattering. You had heard rumors around town about him and his friends, had seen the way the locals had pointed and stared, but you had never given it much thought when they had been nothing but kind and generous towards you. And when you had asked your friends about it they had simply shrugged their shoulders, murmuring offerings about how it was a small town and rumors spread like fire around here. 

"Yeah."

"I meant what I said it doesn't change anything.” The thought of Bucky and his friends getting caught up in another round of fights, of their war escalating, bringing with it the possibility of casualties didn’t sit well with you. “You really think they’d come back after all this time?”

Gently removing your hand from his face he pressed a soft kiss to first your knuckles and then your palm in a gesture that was both calming and sensual. “No,” he finally said. 

“But what about other groups coming after you or-“

“Hey, you got nothing to worry about, pretty girl. Haven’t been in trouble since and don’t plan on getting into more. ‘Sides, nothing interesting happens in this town anyway.”

“Really, Bucky?” You asked, trying and failing to hold back your growing smile. You didn’t understand how he could go from talking about something so serious and dangerous to making jokes, but a small part of you was thankful for the lighter conversation. “ _Nothing_ interesting has happened here? At all?”

“Well,” he smirked, “Guess one interesting thing.”

“What’s that?” 

Your breath hitched when he leaned in closer, your eyes fluttering shut, heart picking up speed at the thought of feeling his lips on yours again. Warm breath against your mouth, fingertips dancing down your jaw and neck, but still, you didn’t feel his kiss. The growing impatience you felt turned to frustration.

“This patio. Most interesting one I’ve seen. Wanna tell me _why_ you guys have so many pillows and blankets out here?”

“Seriously?” 

“What?” He asked innocently with a shrug of his shoulders and an infuriating smirk. “Expecting a different answer?” 

And this time when he leaned forward he gave you the answer you were looking for in a kiss that left you tasting brownies on his lips and tongue. Breathless when he pulled away you went back for seconds wanting him to kiss away your fears over his past, wanting to kiss away his worries of seeing you on the porch. 

“How was that answer?”

“A lot better,” you breathed. 

Stretching his body on the floral blanket he spread his arms, an invitation you accepted without hesitation as you curled into his side, feeling instantly safe and at home. Stroking his fingers down your back you let your eyes flutter shut as every beat of his heart and every roll of the ocean against the shore lulled you into a sense of peacefulness.

Your feet were still caked with sand, his jeans still a little wet and when you shivered against him he grabbed a light blanket, draping it over your body so delicately you were convinced it would take a week before your smile faded. 

“Sometimes when I can’t sleep I come out here and look at the stars.”

“You ever gonna tell me what’s so special about those stars?”

“Jealous?” You teased.

“No,” he scoffed. “Already showed you I could make you feel better than the stars, pretty girl, don’t tell me you forgot already.”

There was no way you’d ever forget that night,. The way his body had pressed yours into the edge of the blanket and grass, the way he kept laughing, husky voiced reminding you to be quiet. The memories came rushing back and as you buried your head in his chest you now knew it’d take a month before your smile faded.

“I didn’t forget,” you mumbled, face burning as you left out the part about how’d you never forget. In a summer that was already filled to the brim with snapshots of your time together that one was on the top of the pile. 

“I always tell people it started when we learned about them in school, but it started earlier than that. When I was a kid I always had trouble leaving at the end of summer. I used to throw tantrums and beg my parents to let me stay here year round and obviously that never worked out,” you laughed. “One year my mom told me that whenever I got lonely and missed the beach and my friends all I had to do was look at the stars and I wouldn’t be lonely because they’d be watching over everything I left behind. I know it sounds dumb, but I was a child and didn’t know any better. But as I got older it just became this sense of comfort, you know? I’d leave and even miles away from everyone I loved I took comfort knowing that no matter the distance we’d still have the stars watching over us.”

“You never thought about staying when you got older?”

“All the time. When I was a kid I used to picture myself moving here right after graduation and sharing a house with Wanda and Nat and sometimes when I’m having a bad day I dream about packing everything up and coming here, but I’ve got a life back home, a job. My mom is expecting me to take over the business one day. It’s not that simple.”

It was the closest you had come to talking about the end of summer and with a pang in your chest you realized for the first time just how hard it was going to be saying goodbye to him. Blinking back the tears you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, telling yourself you still had time with him even though it felt like every second was slipping through your fingers. 

“That what you want?”

You wanted to tell him he was the first person who ever asked you that, wanted to tell him that before meeting him that was the plan, wanted to tell him that a part of you, a large, scary part of you that was reckless wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, wanted to tell him that even though you didn’t know each other well enough you wanted to settle down making a life with him here in this little slice of paradise. Even to your own mind you knew how ridiculous you sounded. But there was something about him, about the way he made you feel whole, the way you couldn’t get him off your mind no matter how hard you tried, the way those simple good morning texts sent your heart racing and your smile growing so large it hurt your face, the way you never slept so well as when you fell asleep next to him, the way you wanted to grow old with him by your side learning new things about him everyday, the way you were convinced you’d never feel this way about anyone else.

You couldn’t tell him that though. You hadn’t even told him that you thought you were falling in love with him. Instead you softly said, “What I want is to stay like this for a little longer.”

* * *

“He’s still here? That’s a good sign means she probably didn’t burn the kitchen down,” Wanda murmured as the headlights of Natasha’s car swept over Bucky’s motorcycle and the darkened front of the house.

“Or it could mean you’re about to walk in on them in the kitchen again,” Natasha retorted. “Or the living room.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Entering the house each of them made sure to make extra noise, stomping their feet, using their outdoor voices in a bid of warning. With each light that was flipped on to illuminate an empty room they became more confident.

“Maybe they’re upstairs,” Natasha said before getting shushed by Wanda.

Sliding the patio door open Wanda lightly stepped out being careful to avoid the creaky boards that would awaken you and Bucky. Slipping her phone out of her pocket she snapped a few pictures of you on your side fast asleep with Bucky holding you to his chest, arm wrapped protectively around your middle quietly snoring.

“Because that’s not creepy at all,” Natasha smirked. 

“She’ll thank us for these later.”


	5. Chapter 5

As the long days of summer bled into one another, the calendar pages changing from June to July each day seemed to bring a fresh round of storms pushing summer celebrations back giving you the false sense that you had more time with Bucky than you did.

Locked indoors unable to see the stars, unable to go to the beach or ride on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle the days and nights had passed in a blur of board games and novels, of movies with plots so silly you couldn’t help but make fun of them, baking adventures that left kitchens messes and days spent in Bucky's arms kissing slowly as the rain pitter pattered against the windows.

The fourth of July came and went. Instead of spending it with Wanda and Natasha like you had every other year rising early before the sun rose along with the heat, baking cookies and cakes and brownies, packing coolers full of ice and soda and sandwiches. Arms full of towels and sun screen searching for the perfect spot on the beach where you’d spend the day alternating between laying in the sun and swimming in the ocean. And once the sun set you’d pull sweatshirts over your swimsuits, wrap blankets around your shoulders, huddled together laughing and talking about everything and nothing as you’d watch the fireworks, oohing over every burst of bright light, every crackle and snap of purples and blues and reds that lit the sky and your faces up.

And when the fireworks ended, when the beach had emptied until it was only the three of you under a sky of stars you’d pack your belongings stashing them on the patio. Slipping sand coated feet into flip flops that smacked against the concrete sidewalks, the sound echoing throughout the night you’d walk around town, arms linked, laughter floating down sidewalks, pausing to watch firecrackers light up the middle of empty streets.

This year you spent it still with your girls, but with the added addition of Bucky and the Howling Commandos, packed into the bar that would always remind you of the way he had grabbed your hand asking if you wanted to get out of there celebrating Steve's birthday.

The middle of July brought with it an end to the storms, a heatwave that almost made you miss the constant rain, an influx of tourists and the fireworks that had always been the highlight of your summer. Sitting in the backyard of Sharon’s modern home your fingers aimlessly pulling out blades of grass, nose wrinkling in distaste at the smell of burnt marshmallows and bitter beer that invaded your senses. Loud music nearly drowned out the firecrackers that snapped and fizzled from next door neighbors. Cigarette smoke curled upwards swirling with that of the bonfires. Excited chatter, flirtatious laughter, booming voices arguing over trivial topics such as who _really_ won that round and whose turn it was to get another case of beer, another plate of burgers for the grill.

It was a sea of flushed faces caused from the sun and the alcohol. It was a swirl of smiling faces and lingering glances, of friends old and new. Of those perfect summer days with skies so blue and temperatures so high it was windows opened as wide as they would go, swimsuits in lieu of clothes, bare feet, mouth watering at the first sight of the blue green waves of the ocean so inviting. It was sweat rolling down shoulder blades, guzzling down glasses of ice cold water and fresh squeezed lemonade, lips wrapping around red and orange and blue and green and purple popsicles, hands growing sticky when the artificial flavors dripped down the stick getting caught between fingers.

It was the feeling of the day stretching into the night stretching into the rest of summer, the feeling that you had all the time in the world, that this summer would last forever like when you were a child before you understood the concept of time and everyday of summer seemed to stretch out infinitely.

It was the realization sitting cross legged on the grass watching your boyfriend and friends laughing, tipping bottles of beer to lips that you had never been so happy before. It was the realization that you never wanted this summer to end.

"Taking a break from making googly eyes at each other?"

If it had been anyone else you'd have been annoyed at the interruption, but as you'd gotten to know Bucky's friends, as they'd spread their arms wide inviting you into their tight knit circle, making you feel like one of them instead of simply Bucky's girlfriend you had grown fond of them, especially Sam with his welcoming personality that made everyone feel like an old friend to that sense of humor, drawing people in like the beacon of a lighthouse.

He lounged on the grass beside you, weight resting on his elbows, long legs stretched out.

"Maybe. You taking a break from giving Bucky bad dating advice?"

With a hearty laugh that had more than a few heads turning he quipped, "People _love_ my dating advice."

"Is that why you're single?"

"Oh, you brought _jokes_ to the party, huh?"

A rush of pride at getting Sam to laugh, a twilight sky overtaking the golden yellows and deep oranges, a hint at a dip in the temperature, a chorus of shouted _fucks_ when a piercing screech filled the air.

"I see why he likes you."

Your insides felt like the melted marshmallows dripping from a s'more. Drawing your knees up to your chest, eyes scanning the backyard it didn't take long to find Bucky. Standing by Steve's side, cigarette balanced between plush lips, head thrown back in laughter. Digging your toes into the grass you watched him for another beat before turning back to Sam.

“Because I bring such great jokes to the party?” You teased.

It was one thing talking about him with your friends, about how much you liked him, all the amazing dates he took you on, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, but it was different talking about him with his friends. You felt like you had to keep the conversation on safe ground, only talking about the lightest of topics. Keeping how much you really liked him close to your chest when all you wanted to do was tell anybody who would listen about the way he made you feel like you were _soaring_ from a simple smile, from a look across the room.

“Uh uh _come on_ we were having nice conversation don’t be giving me those googly eyes!”

Slapping at a mosquito on your ankle you laughed. “I don’t have googly eyes, Sam. Also that’s not even a real thing.”

“It’s real. Dangerous too and you and Bucky have it _bad_.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

"Nothing he says makes sense," Bucky drawled, bottle of beer dangling from his fingertips as he crouched down, chaste kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"And yet _you_ still listen to him."

A snort from Sam, an arched eyebrow from you, a dirty look from Bucky shot in Sam's direction.

"Wasn't so bad was it?" Husky voiced, blue eyes sparkling in the evening's glow, cheeks tinged pink whether from the beginnings of sunburn, the alcohol or the feeling of summer's warm kiss you couldn't be sure. A lock of hair falling across his face, your fingertips brushing it aside, pushing it behind his ear, smile as sweet as melted chocolate.

You didn't say anything, but you didn't have to. Your look, your touch, the conversation you shared silently said it all and if it wasn't for Sam throwing his hands up in the air like a petulant child and groaning another _come on, not again_ you were sure you'd have spent the rest of the night like that, him crouched down next to you, breath smelling of beer and sugary sweet buttercream icing, you with your knees drawn up to your chest eagerly getting bitten by mosquitoes, his lips pressed against yours in a kiss that made you think of fluffy white clouds floating across a cerulean sky as you ignored everyone and everything else around you.

"You two are disgusting," Sam muttered, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

"No one said you had to watch," Bucky shot back.

"Kinda hard not to."

"You kn-"

"Alright, alright," you said laughing. "I'm going to get bug spray do you guys need anything?"

"Other than you, pretty girl?"

"Gonna take more than bug spray to keep him away."

"You know what, Wilson?"

"What?"

You could still hear their bickering voices as you stepped into the kitchen, eyes sweeping over the island that was piled high with cookies, the chocolate chips melting in the heat of the day, pasta salads that should have been put away hours ago, cases of beer sitting on the counter, pitchers of lemonade joining them, various bottles of bug spray and suntan lotion sitting out. Reaching out for a bottle you paused when you saw Steve enter behind you.

Where Sam was warm and engaging, his laughter and charm easily putting you at ease Steve had been harder to get to know with his blonde hair slicked back, face full of a bushy beard, leather jacket adorning his shoulders much in the same way Bucky always wore his. He had been polite to you, always saying hi or at least nodding his head whenever Bucky brought you to the bar and early on when Wanda had ambushed you that night at the ice cream parlor with him and Bucky he had been nice, but that was as far as it went. You always felt on edge around him, as if you had to impress him knowing that he was the closest person in Bucky's life. It was easier when Bucky or Wanda or Natasha were with you, but alone you felt lost, adrift at sea. The need to impress him always weighing heavily on your mind. Your years working as a wedding planner had given you a slight edge in reading people, but you had never been able to read Steve as well as you could Sam or Sharon or even Clint and it unsettled you.

Shifting your weight from foot to foot you grabbed the bottle of bug spray, eyes glancing over at his red face which you knew had more to do with the sun beaming down on him than the few beers he had downed.

"Having fun?" The words escaped before you had a chance to realize how dumb they sounded. If Natasha was with you she'd tell you to relax, but being in his presence made that difficult.

Running a hand over his face he gave a polite nod, hand reaching out for an unopened bag of potato chips that crinkled in his grasp, the noise becoming amplified in the small room. "Yeah. You?"

A simple nod of your head and the conversation reached a standstill. Peering out the picturesque window that offered a glimpse into the backyard this time of night all you were able to make out was yours and Steve's reflection staring back at you. Again, you felt out of place, unaccustomed to not being able to hold a conversation, half your job involved that and you were unable to do it with Bucky's best friend. Frustrated you tried not to let it show on your face. Letting a quiet sigh escape your lips you shook the bottle of bug spray intending to make a hasty exit, but before you could he was speaking, voice quiet, yet authoritative as if he was used to being in a position of power, commanding every room and as the leader of the Howling Commandos you supposed that was true.

"It's been a long time since I've seen him this happy. You know I caught him singing the other day."

You wanted to say _and?_ , but caught yourself at the last minute for fear of being rude the same way you wanted to tell him that you heard him singing all the time. The first night you had slept over at his house you had caught him singing in the kitchen the next morning when he made you breakfast, you'd catch him singing when you were laying in his arms when he thought you were fast asleep, hear him singing along off tune and in exaggeration to the radio as he'd twirl you around an empty living room when it was only the two of you. Instead of saying any of that though you offered up a quiet yeah?

"Yeah. Haven’t heard him singing since,” he paused, words trailing off as he cleared his throat.

"He told me about," you paused, uncertain if you should continue or not, struggling to choose your words carefully you dove in, "About what happened before you guys ended up here."

"He never tells anyone about that." His words hung heavy in the air, but with each second that passed you could feel the bricks of that invisible wall around Steve slowly crumble down around you. Leaning his weight against the island he said after a stretched moment of silence that left you wondering where this conversation was headed, "You're good for him."

It was only four words, but they meant the world to you coming from him. "I really like him," you blurted out, attention drawn back to the window where you couldn't see, but could hear the first firework being shot high into the sky. The music that had been blaring from speakers was turned down to a more appropriate level, but the bass still shook the window frames. It was the first time you had admitted to his friends how much you liked him and it left you feeling vulnerable and wanting to cover it up with a joke like you had done with Sam earlier, but in a way you were also relieved to let Steve know how important his best friend had become to you in such a short amount of time.

"He really likes you too, Y/N."

"You guys are missing the fireworks," Clint said, poking his head into the kitchen, eyes narrowing in on the bag of potato chips that Steve still held in his grasp. "Toss those over here!"

Grateful for the interruption and a pause on the conversation you followed Steve out of the kitchen, bare feet sinking into cool grass you made your way back to Bucky who sat alone now, head tilted up, watching the sky light up with bursts of blues and reds and greens. With a smile that rivaled that of the prettiest sunsets you had ever seen you watched him, wishing that you were a painter or that you had your phone in hand to snap his picture for you wanted to remember this moment, this night, this summer.

"C'mere, pretty girl," he hummed, arms outstretched, one hand instinctively going to your wrist, circling over your bracelet as he pulled you down onto his lap.

A tangled mess of limbs and laughs and warm breaths and sweeter kisses you momentarily forgot about the bug spray, letting it fall next to your bodies as you settled in. A beat, a crackle of pops bursting with purples and pinks that lit up the backyard.

"I'm going to hurt you,” you tried to warn, attempting to get off his lap.

Ignoring your words he tightened his arms around your middle, your head falling back against his shoulder, hands resting on top of his.

"Missed you."

"I was gone for five minutes. If that."

"Still missed you." Words mumbled against the skin of your neck, sweet like honeysuckle, dripping with the warmth of honey that left you sighing and wanting more.

"I was talking with Steve."

"Yeah?"

A burst of silver and green fireworks, one after the other, taking everyone else's breaths away, but your breath had been taken away the moment you stumbled against the railing at the party and you haven’t been able to get it back yet.

"Yeah. He's got this strange idea that you like me," you teased, drawing out the word like.

"Dunno where he got that idea."

You could feel his lips curving up into a smile against your neck, the fireworks all but forgotten, your friends faded away into the distance until it was just the two of you in Sharon's backyard.

A beat. A round of shouts after a pause in the fireworks. Your lips catching his. Him deepening the kiss. A round of cheers when they start up again.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" It's a shot of bravery on your part, a role reversal, but the way his eyes light up you _know_ that his mind is drifting back to the way he's asked you that so many times before. You know that it's rude to leave, rude to not thank Sharon for the party, rude not to tell your friends that you're leaving, but you don't care. The fireworks aren't over, but you're selfish tonight and you want him to yourself. Tired of sharing you climb off his lap, one hand collecting your shoes and your purse, the other holding tight to his hand as you sneak out of the party like teenagers instead of adults.

It's a short walk from the backyard to the front of the house and an even shorter ride from her house to his, but you savor every second that you have with him. Commit to memory the way your arms wrap securely around his waist, the way the wind feels rushing against your clothes and skin, the way the engine roars to life always startling you with that first rev no matter how many times you've heard it. You commit to memory the way you feel so alive on the back of his motorcycle, the way you feel invincible as you drive through the streets of the town you know like the back of your hand. Come the end of summer you know it's not going to be the big things you miss the most, but the little details, the way he holds his hand out to you helping you off his bike, the way he smiles so sweetly before telling you you look beautiful no matter the disarray of your clothes or hair, the way he always asks you how it was as if he didn't already know how much you've come to love those rides, the way he holds you close, the way he always checks in.

Standing in the driveway, his arms around your waist, your hands resting on the warm leather of his jacket you can't see the fireworks from his house, but you find you don't care. His neighbors are lighting off their own set filled with sparklers and something that requires them lighting things in the middle of the road before dashing back to the safety of the sidewalk.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, a promise of more to come. A final look at his neighbors fireworks, a quick look at the stars you know you can't see from his house and you're following him inside, smile lighting up your face as he guides you through the now familiar darkened rooms leading you to his bedroom where the night will end with your own version of fireworks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait! Between an injured back and a horrible case of writers block I am back with a new chapter!

Pulling into what you weren't sure was even a parking spot beneath the long branches of a willow tree that rustled against your bare arms you struggled to get your bearings. The shade of the tree was a relief after having spent what seemed like hours on the road beneath the hot glare of the sun, but as Bucky helped you down you were hit with a wall of heat that made your shirt stick to your back, that left sweat rolling down the back of your neck and that left you briefly craving the icy cold hands of winter. Wiping at your brow with the back of your hand you admired the way wisps of his fair fell from his bun, the way the black leather of his jacket perfectly hugged his beefy upper body, the way the dark wash denim of his jeans clung to his thick thighs, the way that even in the heat he was barely sweating. 

"C'mon, it's not that much farther."

Silently following him over dirt pathways littered with sticks and ankle high grass you listened to the cicadas sing their songs of summer and love.

It was hard to tell how long you had been walking for beneath the sweltering late day summer sun before stumbling into his back when he came to an abrupt stop. 

“Not that I’m doubting you Bucky Barnes, but are you _sure_ you know where you’re going?”

“Sounds like you’re doubting me, pretty girl.” Voice full of charm and that easy confidence that had you willing to follow him anywhere you smiled. “It should be right through here,” he murmured more to himself than you as he held back a low hanging branch.

Offering him a nervous smile you stepped forward unsure what would greet you on the other side.

Emptiness.

It was the first thing you thought of as your eyes landed on the small stretch of green grass that sat in front of you. Long branches of willow trees dipped into the sparkling blue green water of the lake. Like something out of painting you sucked in a breath at the beauty, at the solitude of the spot he had led you to. The water was still reminding you of cut glass. Like the night he had taken you to the private beach to stargaze you were left in awe, left speechless at the lengths he would go to leave you breathless, to make sure this would be a summer you’d never forget.

“After the bar burned down and we moved here I spent a lot of time exploring,” he murmured, voice serious in a way you hadn’t heard since the night he had opened up about his past. “Spent a lotta time angry over what happened. It wasn’t good for me. Wasn’t good for Steve or Sam either so I started taking long rides. At first it was to clear my head, but eventually I started doing some exploring. Nothing serious, stopping every few hours to stretch my legs. Found this place after a bad day.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face he continued, “I know it’s not the ocean, but.” Shrugging his shoulder he glanced at you before turning his gaze out to the horizon.

He's right. It's not the ocean. Not even close. It's better, something you never thought you'd say, but as the thought drifts through your mind, as your gaze lingers on the water sparkling beneath the suns setting rays you realize how true it is. It's not just a lake, it's a part of him, a part of his story that he felt safe enough sharing with you and because of that it's so much more.

"It's perfect."

Where the ocean was always packed with beachgoers and dog walkers never quite allowing you that peace you craved even in the early morning hours or late at night here it was empty, just the two of you, the perfect secret spot.

When he turned to look at you all shy smiled and glittering eyes you could practically see the tension melt away from his shoulders when he breathed out a quiet _yeah_?

Reaching down for his hand you interlaced your fingers with his listening to the sounds of the cicadas still buzzing away in the tree tops and his gentle and even breaths. Kicking your shoes off you let your toes sink into the grass, a sigh of relief escaping at the feeling of being barefoot and free. Enveloped by the days mugginess that had wrapped its arms around you and never let go and emboldened by the excitement of being with him you took a step forward followed by another and another until you were at the edge of the grass your toes just barely dipping into the water that was as warm as a newly drawn bath.

"Wanna go for a swim?" Only half teasing you laughed at the excitement that lit up his face and when he slipped out of his jacket tossing it behind him where it landed on the grass you watched with your own set of excitement at the way his muscles rippled beneath the too tight shirts he always insisted on wearing. Reaching out, fingers grazing the hem you tugged it up, fire burning in the pit of your stomach as you watched each new sliver of skin become revealed. Trailing your fingertips over the well defined muscles of his abdomen you watched the way they rippled beneath your feather light touches before dragging your eyes up to meet his. Making quick work of the button and zipper on his jeans you let out a breathy laugh, words coming out a little shaky when you said, "I've never done this before."

Kicking off his boots he stepped out of his jeans nudging them to the side where his jacket laid. "You've undressed me plenty of times, pretty girl," he teased, husky voiced, his own fingers resting on the hem of your shirt not making a move until you gave a small nod of your head.

Shirt sticky with sweat and dust from the open road he was patient when he pulled the material from your body being careful when he tossed it to the growing pile of clothes. "Not what I meant."

Sucking in a breath your eyes fluttered closed at the gentleness of his fingers as he trailed them down your neck, between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach before resting on the top of your shorts. Reaching a hand out to his broad shoulders for balance as he made quick work of undoing the button and zipper you stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. Left in only your bra and underwear, him in only his boxers, your toes still dipping into the warm water you exhaled slowly, taking a second to commit this moment to memory, the way the water felt lapping at your toes, the way the sun was beginning its lazy descent, the way you had traveled for what felt like hours, the way he had opened up about his past like a newly planted flower blossoming.

And when you opened your eyes you committed to memory the way his large hand enveloped your cheek, the way his eyes were fighting between that beautiful blue you had spent so many months staring into and the blackness of lust you had spent so many nights getting lost in, the way he was staring at you like you were the center of his whole world, the way his lips landed first on your forehead in what you were sure was one of the sweetest kisses you had ever experienced before landing on your sweaty cheek before finally landing on your lips.

Stepping towards him, water rippling towards his ankles, giggles threatening to burst and explode from your mouth you kissed him back committing to memory the way you swore his lips were made just for yours. In a summer of kisses shared beneath the moonlight and burning sun, on the back of motorcycles and in front seats of cars, in the privacy of his bedroom and in rooms full of people, early in the morning and late at night you knew that no matter how many people you'd kiss no one would ever be able to set your heart on fire the way that Bucky Barnes did.

"I meant," you teased, words breathless, chest heaving, eyes slow to open, hand searching out for his as you waded further into the water. "That I've never been this unprepared before. We don't even towels." Laughing as the water reached your stomach you let out an appreciative moan at the way the water helped to wash away your sweat and dust grimed skin, the way it was able to cool you down if only just a little bit.

"I brought towels."

Pausing mid-stride you turned to face him, eyebrows scrunched together at this new information. "No you didn't."

"I did." Tugging your hand forward he ushered you farther into the lake. "They're in the backpack."

"Which you left by the motorcycle," you said after a pause. Shaking your head, laughter bubbling up you let go of his hand only to splash him. " _Why_ didn't you bring it with you! Now we're going to have to trek back through the dirt soaking wet just to dry off!"

"Don't blame me I didn't think you'd wanna go swimming." The teasing tone of his voice had your mouth opening and closing like a fish before you reached down, splashing him again, laughing when he scrubbed his face clean and wiped away the water from his eyes.

"Bucky Barnes! It's nearly ninety degrees and you brought me to a lake and you _didn't think I'd wanna go swimming_? You are such a liar!" A playful shriek escaped when he retaliated by splashing you, the water lapping at your bra, soaking your chest and your neck.

Letting out a squeal when he stepped behind you, wet arms wrapping around your waist holding you close to his chest, lips pressing wet kisses to the dampness of your neck you could practically feel him smirking against your skin. "Maybe it was all part of the plan." Voice low, breath warm, smile on your face you played along, your hands resting on top of his watching as the sky changed from the fluffy white clouds that had dotted the blue expanse to the burnt oranges and golden yellows of the sunset.

"Mm and what else did this plan of yours include?" Turning in his arms you pushed a lock of wet hair behind his ear, your arms looping around his neck as you pressed yourself closer to him.

Shrugging his shoulders, glint of mischievousness in his eyes, hands gliding beneath the cut glass of water to rest on your hips pulling you impossibly closer. "Might have involved getting you alone. Getting you undressed. Getting you... _wet_ ," he finished, mouth pressed to the shell of your ear smirking in triumphant when he felt you shivering in his arms.

A handful of retorts balanced on the tip of your tongue, your eyes fluttering closed as one hand stayed on your hip, his other gliding up and down your back, your sides, sending your body into another fit of shivers and goosebumps. Unwinding your arms from around his neck you slid your own hands down the broad expanse of his chest. "I have to say I don't think your plan is working." Lies as thick as honey you shot him a playful smile before wading farther into the water. His deep laughter reverberated around you, the water rippling out as each of you swam into the middle of the lake, laughing and holding hands, sharing kisses beneath the darkening sky. It was perfect. He was perfect. It was another snapshot added to your memory of a summer that you knew you'd never forget, not in a million years.

* * *

“You know you don't have to walk me to the door after _every_ date." Still wearing his jacket, still wearing a larger than life smile on your face you leaned back against the front door, a mixture of exhaustion and euphoria nipping at your heels. Despite having spent the whole day with him you still weren't ready to say goodbye and the feeling appeared mutual when he stepped closer, one hand leaning against the door frame caging you in.

"Maybe I like walking you to the door. Means I get a few extra minutes with you, pretty girl.”

Lopsided smirk and eyes full of mirth, laughter ringing out after the cheesy words that left your heart skipping a beat. Hand sliding up his chest and cupping his sunburned cheek, pad of your thumb following.

"I had a lot of fun today," you breathed, eyes glancing down to his lips.

"Glad you enjoyed it," he murmured, words barely escaping before he was slanting his mouth over yours.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him closer, your knees almost buckling beneath you when he deepened the kiss.

The porch light flickered on illuminating everything in a soft yellow glow that made Bucky look like a disheveled angel with his wrinkled shirt and wind blown hair.

“Think that might be my cue to leave, pretty girl,” he murmured, warm breath ghosting across your kiss swollen lips.

Tightening your hold around his neck you frowned, lips chasing his again in another toe curling kiss. Tangling your hands in his already messed up hair you whined not ready for the night to end.

“ _Or_ ,” you whispered, teeth nipping at his lower lip. “That might be our cue to take this inside.”

Eyes shining bright with a hopefulness and an eagerness that had Bucky groaning his hand slipped beneath your shirt, rough palm running up your side causing you to shiver against him again.

“You’re killing me.”

Another groan from him, a giggle from you, your fingers tugging on his hair, his hand slipping a little higher, thumb brushing over your bra.

“What do you say, Bucky Barnes?”

Lips pressing to the corner of his mouth, nails scraping against his scalp, a low rumbling from his chest, your thighs clenching together at the prospect of having him in your bed, of showing him all the ways you had managed to fall for him over the course of the summer.

“ _Pretty girl_.”

Bearded face nuzzling your neck, an eruption of giggles and gasps when his sharp teeth nibbled at your skin, knees truly about to give out this time, hand sliding down to your hip, fingers digging bruises into your skin, thick thigh shoved between your legs helping to hold you up.

“That’s not an answer.”

Whispered words amid the flickering on and off of the porch light, frustrated groans and needful whines, the sense of time running out, his head lifting from your neck, mouth pressed against your ear, eyes trained on the large bay window, your head tilting to the side, waiting for him to say _yes, yes, yes._

But the words didn’t come. And the ones that did had you uttering a frustrated _fuck_ followed by guilt settling in the pit of your stomach. You didn't have to turn your head to the window to know that the curtains were already rustling, not from the fan, but from your friends eager to have you alone, to hear the details of your night.

“I guess that really was your cue to leave.” Pouting you ignored the ache in your chest, reminding yourself it’s not goodbye for forever, at least not yet.

“Told you so,” he teased. Sliding his hand out from beneath your shirt he kissed you softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

Less than twenty four hours it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah.” Slipping out of his jacket you handed it back to him, immediately missing the sense of security it provided you. “Bucky?” You called out, voice gentle in the stillness of the night.

With one foot on the second step of the porch he turned back to face you and in the soft yellow glow of the porch light you swore you had never seen him look more radiant.

“I love you.”

It was easier to say than you thought it would be. Three simple words tumbling from swollen lips. Three simple words you had never uttered to another man before. Three simple words that you hadn’t planned on saying. At least not yet. After all it had only been a few months since you had known him and you didn’t expect him to say it back. You wanted to tell him just that. But as you stood on the porch, back leaning against the door, heart pounding so loudly beneath your chest you swore he could hear it standing on the steps, as you listened to the rise and fall of the oceans waves you knew in that moment as the words swirled around you, falling and exploding like that shooting star you had seen at the beginning of summer that it was right. 

There was a beauty in uttering those three words on the porch where you had shared your first kiss with him, where you had spent hours sitting on the front steps wasting away those long days of summer talking and laughing about nothing, sharing melting ice cream cones, your bare feet propped in his lap, watching the world pass by as you fell more and more in love with him. 

Maybe it was foolish telling him when you didn't know what the end of summer would mean for the two of you, but it was first love, _he_ was your first love, it was meant to be foolish and reckless, overwhelming and magical because you had nothing else to compare it to. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your feet floated six feet off the ground and when he smiled at you, lips curling up at the edges, large hand pushing a piece of hair out of his face you swore you had never been so happy in your life.

Another minute spent staring at him, your fingertips ghosting over lips that he had been kissing only moments ago, your gaze watching his back as he climbed down the steps and to his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life before he sped off and still you stayed, your back pressed against the front door, your mind replaying every single moment of this summer, of this night.

“Wanda would like me to tell you that if you guys wanna make out on the porch to please not do it against the doorbell. Apparently it woke her up,” Natasha snickered, flinging the door open.

“I didn’t say that!” Came Wanda’s soft voice. “Not exactly.”

“You did. Right after you asked how long two people could kiss before needing to breath.”

Stepping over the threshold mind still on Bucky and those three words you had been brave enough to utter not even their teasing could dampen your mood.

“Sorry,” you said, mind still a million miles away. Kicking off your shoes that were still damp from the lake you floated over to the couch, love struck smile on your face as you pulled a pillow onto your lap, hugging it tightly and wishing it was Bucky.

“You’re glowing,” Natasha stated, sitting down next to you.

Wanda sat on your other side, head tilted, eyes appraising your appearance. You were sure looked like a mess with your swollen lips and wrinkled clothes but you didn’t care.

“You’ve never looked this happy before,” Wanda added, exchanging a curious glance with Natasha.

Flopping back onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling you thought about not telling them, at least not tonight, but with the way your heart was bursting at the seams there was no way you could keep this to yourself.

“I’ve never been this happy before,” you gushed. “I told him I loved him. I know you guys think it’s too soon and that I’m being impulsive, but _I’m not_.”

“Nobody thinks you’re being impulsive,” Wanda said as Natasha muttered, “It’s about time.”

“Really?”

“ _Really._ We’ve seen the way you are with him and I’ve never seen anyone make you smile as much as he does,” Wanda said.

“She’s right,” Natasha added. “But I think we’re forgetting something important here. Did he say it back?”

Smiling too wide to reply you looked first at Wanda with her soft smile and then at Natasha with her arched eyebrow. Nodding your head you breathed out a rushed _yes_ , savoring the way they both squealed in excitement at the new development in your life. Falling in love for the first time was thrilling and all consuming, but it was made even better by having your best friends by your side and being able to bask in the love with them.

“How’d you tell him? Oh, was it romantic? Beneath the stars?” Wanda asked, shooting rapid fire questions at you with wide eyes.

Laughing you shook your head hugging the pillow tighter to your chest as you settled in for a night of retelling the evenings events so reminiscent of sharing the details with them after your first date with him all those months ago.


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t believe you spent ten dollars on a rigged game to get _that_ ,” you said, staring daggers at the prize Bucky was proudly holding in his arms.

“The game wasn’t rigged,” he laughed. “Won you this didn’t I, pretty girl?”

“Out of all the prizes you could have gotten you _had_ to choose that one?”

“You don’t like it?” The challenge in his voice left you wanting to kiss the stupid smirk right off his face. “Coulda sworn you told me one time how much you loved sharks. You telling me after all this time that Jaws _isn’t_ your favorite movie?”

“You know what Bucky Barnes?”

“What?”

Stepping toe to toe with him, the black beady eyes of the gray stuffed shark staring you down, the exposed teeth, the ugly red and open mouth. It was a hideous creature.

Dragging your eyes away from the _prize_ that he had won and up to his still smirking face it was all too easy to let the bustle of the fair fade to the background. Tuning out the excited and sometimes terrified screams coming from the carnival rides, tuning out the game operators stepping into the crowd asking people to try their luck, tuning out the constant chatter of people waiting in lines and pushing past you and Bucky still standing in front of one of the game booths your sole focus was on him and only him.

Still waiting on your answer your mouth tilted up at the corners in a smirk that mirrored his own.

“I hope you and James here have a wonderful life together.”

“You’re not calling him that.”

“Why not?”

“That’s not a name for a shark.”

"What are you gonna call him?"

You didn't think it was possible, but his smirk only widened. Leaning down to be heard over the noises of the fair he said like it should have been obvious, "Jaws." Humming the ominous tune that had haunted both your nightmares and made you terrified of the ocean for a summer you narrowed your eyes, but it was hard to stay mad at him when he looked so ridiculous cradling a giant stuffed toy in his arms.

"You know you're not as funny as you think you are," you said, struggling to keep a smile off your face.

"That why you're smiling, pretty girl?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Bucky Barnes I'm smiling because I’m thinking of ice cream.”

“That the only reason?”

Lifting your shoulder in a shrug, eyes searching his, hand reaching out to rest on his chest you leaned forward, lips barely touching his in a whisper of a kiss. But it wasn’t enough for Bucky Barnes. Still holding onto the shark his free hand moved to the back of your head pulling you closer. His lips were rough and chapped from hours spent under the hot sun, his beard tickling your skin, beer lingered on his tongue when he deftly slipped it past your parted lips.

Forgetting where you were for a moment your fingers curled around his jacket, a needy moan escaping becoming swallowed by his kisses when he moved his lips against yours with a little more force that left you aching to have him take you back home.

Jostled to the side by a group of rowdy teenagers the kiss was broken with a gasp and a stumble on your part. Sliding his hand from the back of your head to your elbow to steady you it was hard to believe how out of breath you were from a _kiss_.

“Careful there,” he murmured.

Senses that were slow to come back his words transported you to that first night before becoming overwhelmed with the here and now. It seemed as if the crowds around you had become thicker, voices becoming amplified. Blinking through the daze of the kiss to get your bearings you nodded your head.

“I’m okay,” you breathed. A little flustered and embarrassed at your public displays of affection, but you were more than okay especially after watching the way his tongue wetted his lips, the way his eyes so full of concern and love raked over you.

“Still thinking about that ice cream?”

“Of course. What else would I be thinking of?”

Teasing voices and lingering glances. Caught up in the fairs neon lights and the crowds. In the magic of summer and the innocence of first love you stayed like that, his hand resting on your elbow, your hand on his chest feeling each beat of his heart, your eyes locked on his, the mechanical whirs of the rides, feet stamping down metal ramps exiting and entering, the crowds and rise and falls of each voice again faded into the background. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he could make you forget about your surroundings, the way he could make you feel like the only person in the world.

“C’mon.”

Slipping his hand into yours he pulled you forward. Pace slow and with no particular plan for the rest of the night you walked passed the rest of the games watching as excited children eagerly pulled yellow rubber ducks from a pond, teenagers smack talking each other and tossing basketballs through hoops with a _whoosh_ , a couple tossing ping pong balls into fish bowls with the hopes of walking away with a goldfish in a bag as a present, darts sailing through the air and popping rainbow colored balloons.

Heading past the game booths the scent of deep fried foods, sugary sweet lemonades and bitter beer enveloped you. Melted cheese from cheeseburgers and greasy extra large slices of pizza. Sugar spun cotton candy in pastel blues and pinks and crisp funnel cakes drenched with fresh strawberries, powdered sugar and whipped cream all left your stomach rumbling and your mouth watering as you passed each booth.

Pausing at one you placed your orders for ice cream, double chocolate chip for him and cookie dough for you. Packed tight into waffles cones you continued your easy pace, eyes scanning for a place to sit down and rest your tired feet. Every picnic table was crammed full, every seat beneath the large white tents where beer was being served to wristband wearing adults of legal age and bands were playing off tune to tipsy and drunk crowds he guided you to a patch of grass empty of other people.

Sitting down next to him on the grass, the fair lights coloring everything in reds and blues and greens, the rides spinning and dipping, the crash of drums and the wail of a guitar filled the silence as you ate.

Scooting closer to him you basked in the warmth that always seemed to radiate from his muscular build. The day had been hot, the skies a clear blue and not a cloud in sight, but as the sun had set ushering in evening it had brought with it cooler temperatures, autumn waiting in the wings with another reminder that your time together was almost over.

Resting your head on his shoulder and finishing off your waffle cone you smiled when he slung his arm around your shoulder, ice cream stained lips landing on the top of your head as he pulled you closer.

Stroking his fingertips down your arms you shivered in his embrace, his touch simultaneously lighting your skin on fire and covering you in goosebumps. 

"Now what?" You asked, fighting back a yawn. A morning spent on the back of his bike followed by the afternoon and evening spent riding the rides, walking around, eating way too much sugary and fried food had left you tired, but still, you weren't ready to leave the excitement of the fair.

"I could win you another prize. Maybe get Jaws here a friend, what do you say?" Lifting the still hideous in your eyes toy up your face you smacked it away, your laughter ringing out as you snuggled closer to his side burying your face in his bearded neck. 

"I say that's a horrible idea, Bucky.”

"Admit it you think he's cute."

"I think _you're_ cute, but I think _that_ is hideous."

"You're breaking my heart here, pretty girl." 

"I'm sure I can find away to put your fragile heart back together again." 

"That so?"

Without answering him you lifted your head from his neck and kissed him softly just once. "How's that heart of yours?"

"Still broken."

"Well, we can't have that now can we?" 

A smile as sweet as ice cream and lips that tasted like chocolate and summer and _love_ you kissed him again.

"How’s that heart of yours now?”

"Still broken," he mumbled, mouth curling into a lopsided grin that had your heart skipping a beat. "Think it's only gonna get put back together again when we get Jaws that friend."

"Absolutely not.” 

" _Pretty girl_ ," he laughed. 

" _No_." Wriggling out of his embrace, laughter making your stomach hurt and bringing tears to the corner of your eyes you swatted at _Jaws_ as he had taken to calling the monster away when he brought it closer to your face.

"Not even if I let you name him James?"

" _Nope._ "

"Two's always better than one."

"Not in this case."

"Dunno," he started. "Coulda sworn it was you who told me Jaws 2 was way better than the first."

"You're taking that out of context. You only made me say that because you wouldn't stop tickling me." 

"Still admitted it." Standing up and reaching down to pull you to your feet he brought you to his chest which rumbled with his throaty laughter. 

"Under _duress_."

"Still counts." 

"You are unbelievable." Sliding your hands up his chest and to his shoulder you cupped his bearded cheek, your fingers stroking down his jaw that you swore had been sculpted from the greek gods themselves. "You are unbelievable," you said again before adding softly, "But I love you."

"Love you too, pretty girl."

Standing in his embrace, lips a little swollen from the kisses, feet blistered and sore from walking around in shoes for hours, body chilled from the evenings cool air, heart skipping a beat as those three words hung in the air you took another snapshot of this moment adding it to your mental scrapbook of a summer and a man that had changed your life for the better.


	8. Chapter 8

Snapping the radio off with a quick flick of your wrist you sucked in a breath. It seemed impossible to avoid the constant reminders of fall that were creeping right around the corner from the shops downtown full of signs proclaiming in bold letters end of summer sales to the magazines propped up by registers trying to sell the latest fall trends. You weren’t safe from the television or radio either which seemed to blare nothing but back to school promos. 

Even the leaves on a few of the trees had begun changing from lush green to yellows and oranges. The days that had used to seem so long and endless were subtly beginning to become shorter, the sunsets arriving earlier, sweaters and sweatshirts tagging along on nighttime adventures.

Each reminder of autumn’s arrival pierced straight through your heart forcing you to soak up every minute you could on the beach, with your friends, with Bucky. In a summer that had been full of magical firsts you were now left staring at the last few weeks trying hard not to think about the end, a seemingly impossible task. 

“I was listening to that.”

The warmth of his voice and the teasing of his words snapped you back to the present. Back to the messiness of his garage with shiny metal tools spread out, to the smell of grease and sweat. To the white tank top stretched across his body, hair pulled back into that all too familiar bun, black grease marks across his hands and smeared across his right cheek. It brought you back to the chilliness that lingered in the air, to the cloudy skies that threatened rain, a dreary day that matched your mood. 

“You were listening to a commercial about back to school shoes? Really, Bucky Barnes?” 

“Maybe.” Lifting his head up, a stray lock of brunette hair slipping from his bun, lopsided grin that had your heart skipping a beat. “Thought it’d be a good time to try a new style.”

Leaning back against the counter you crossed your arms over your chest watching the way he tinkered with his motorcycle. Memories flashed through your mind of the first time you had so boldly gotten on it, heart in your throat you swore you would never be able to walk a straight line again on your wobbly legs. But you had. You had been scared to death, but you had done it. And now, watching him, it was another reminder of what you would be saying goodbye to. 

His words went unacknowledged and not for the first time today did you find yourself struggling to focus. You knew you weren’t going to be able to concentrate until you talked about your future, but right now, watching him work on his motorcycle, listening to the distant claps of thunder you pushed that overdue conversation to the back of your mind.

"Yeah, thought about maybe trying something with sparkles this year."

Again, his voice drew you out of your thoughts. To the way he stuffed the grease stained rag into the back of his jean pocket, the way he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand adding another dark streak across his skin, the way he methodically picked his tools up placing them back where they belonged, another job done for the day.

"Not sure you could pull that off," you retorted, falling easily into the banter you had become accustomed to over the course of the summer. It was just another thing you would be saying goodbye to. The thought had your mouth curling down into a frown. Frustration bubbled up in the pit of your stomach followed by a cowardliness that you weren't used to. You knew that the easiest way to handle this was to rip the band aid off, have the conversation _now_ and enjoy the last of summer, but you _couldn't_. Every time the words came close to surfacing you swallowed them down.

Your job may have required you to be good at reading people and situations, but it failed in comparison to Bucky who had been able to read you like an open book since that first night on the porch beneath twinkling stars and Christmas lights. Snapping the top of his toolbox shut he walked over to you, his strides long, his grin lopsided, his eyes sparkling, three more checkmarks on your mental list of things you would have to say goodbye to. "You okay, pretty girl? Been quiet today.”

"Yeah," you lied, hating how easily it rolled off your tongue, hating how he offered you the perfect opening and yet you still refused to take it. 

Searching your eyes he leaned forward, sweat and grease and woods wafting from him, hint of a frown lingering on his face as if he didn’t believe you, but was debating whether to push it further. 

“ _I’m okay_. I’ll be even better once you take a shower and we get something to eat.”

“You saying I smell?” Leaning his hands on the counter behind you and caging you in he dipped his head down, wisps of his hair tickling your face, warm breath fanning your mouth. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said. Heat crawled up your neck though if it was from your earlier words or the way he leaned impossibly closer, his chest pressed firmly against yours followed by his hips, stained hand landing on your waist it was hard to tell. 

“You sure about that?” Tone teasing, breath hot against your already heated cheek you half heartedly tried to slip away from him, but he was having none of it. “Cause it sounded like you were saying I smell. That what you meant, Y/N?”

You could practically feel his wolfish grin against your neck when you pushed on his shoulders, squirming against him, your laughter drowning out the next clap of thunder.

God, it felt so good to _laugh_ , to genuinely forget for a few moments about the future that still needed to be discussed. 

“You’re going to get your gross sweat and grease on me,” you whined.

“My gross sweat?” Scoffing he lifted his head up. “Not only do you tell me I smell now you’re telling me my sweat is gross?”

“ _Bucky Barnes_!” 

“ _Pretty girl_.”

Pretty blue eyes that sparkled beneath the garage lights, bright smile that you saw every time you closed your eyes when laying in bed at night, sharp pang in your heart when you realized that soon all of this would be nothing more than a memory, that _he’d_ be nothing more than a chapter in your life story. 

As if he could sense the shift in the air and in your mood his once bright smile faltered, his strong arms letting go of the counter, grease stained fingertips lovingly stroking your cheek. 

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kissing him softly you said, “Go take a shower I’ll make us something to eat.”

“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down are you? Cause I happen to like it.” 

“I’m going to burn your food for that remark,” you teased. “And for the last time I did not burn the kitchen down!”

* * *

  
Stomachs full of grilled cheese sandwiches and potato chips, dishes washed and put away, credits rolling on a comedy you hadn't been able to focus on, but that Bucky had found hilarious, bare chest rumbling with that deep laugh you had come to love, eyes crinkling up at the edges. You had spent more time watching him than the show trying to memorize the lines of his face, the way his body filled up the couch, the way he'd toss his head back at the really funny parts, patting your ankles that were propped in his lap. 

Chances slipped through your fingers to talk to him, excuses were made and it wasn't until you were leaning against the door jamb of the bathroom a few hours later getting ready for bed that you summoned the courage. 

"I have to leave soon," you whispered, words drifting through the bathroom, memories flooding your mind. Of the time you had foolishly attempted taking a shower together, the way he had gotten shampoo in his eye, his elbow landing in your face before you both had realized what a _stupid_ idea it had been. The first time you had slept over and the sheepish way he had offered you a new toothbrush, still in its package. The time he had you sit on the counter after you had gotten stung by a bee and the gentleness he had employed when removing the stinger and cleaning the mark. 

You had a hundred memories like that covering every room of his house. Every room of Wanda and Natasha's house. Every inch of town. You couldn't walk a step without being hit by a memory. 

"You wanna leave in the middle of a storm?" Blue eyes met yours through the mirror, but the teasing tone of his words didn't reach his smile. Running his toothbrush under the steady stream of water he shut the faucet off and turned to face you, back leaning against the counter. 

"Bucky."

"I know," he sighed. 

Thunder clapped overhead. Rain splattered against the roof. Fluorescent lights flickered and you wondered if the power was going to cut off. Memories overwhelmed you. Tears pooled in your eyes and any courage you had washed away like the sand during high tide.

“It’s okay,” he soothed and in two long strides he was in front of you, wrapping you in his arms, holding you close, his breaths coming out even and gentle, a contrast with the shaky sobs that wracked your body.

Had you known at the beginning of summer that you'd meet him and fall in love you would have bottled up every glance he had shot your way, every brush of his fingers against yours, every laugh you had coaxed from him, every ride on the back of his motorcycle, every star you had seen, every adventure you had taken. You'd have bottled it all up and held it close to your heart because you never thought for one second that the end would have come hurtling towards you unable to do anything to stop it.

“What’s going to happen to us when I leave?”

The tension in the air was thick enough to slice with a knife. A hundred possibilities of what the future would mean for the two of you flew through your mind. A thousand different scenarios of what he was going to say flooded your brain. A million regrets bloomed deep in your chest for waiting until now to talk about this.

The band aid had been ripped off, the conversation started, but now that it had you weren’t sure how to continue.

He sucked in a deep breath, a reminder that you weren’t the only one struggling here. Soon you’d be gone, back home throwing yourself into work, able to visit restaurants and parks and shops without the constant memories of you and him clouding your vision. But Bucky, he’d be staying here, unable to go anywhere without being hit with memories of your time together. There was nothing easy about leaving him behind, but at least you wouldn’t be struck by the constant reminders.

“You’re more to me than a summer fling, pretty girl, you know that,” he murmured. Pulling back enough to stare into your puffy eyes his hands cupped your tear stained cheeks, his thumb brushing over your skin, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Choking back a sob when he kissed your forehead your heart was lodged in your throat waiting for him to continue, waiting for your brain to string enough words together to tell him how you felt.

“I know this is more than a summer fling for you too,” he added softly. 

Unable to do anything more than nod your head amid the tears and ragged breaths you flinched at the boom of thunder.

“You remember that first night we met? When you came barreling out that door and I thought you were gonna fall over the railing?”

You didn’t want to, didn’t mean to, but reliving the memory of that long ago night brought a tiny smile to your face. Sniffling and still unable to verbally answer him you gave a small nod of your head.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight, but that first time I saw you beneath those lights and I saw the way you relaxed when you looked up at the sky knew I had to get to know you. When I got called away to break up that fight I went back looking for you, but you were already gone.” Stroking his thumbs over your wet cheeks the smile he graced you with momentarily made you forget you were still standing in the doorway of his bathroom having a conversation about your future. 

There was a dab of bright blue toothpaste at the corner of his mouth, wrinkles lined his eyes and when he laughed the sound caught you so off guard given the circumstances your mouth fell open.

“When Natasha gave me your number I had about a thousand questions I asked her when it came to you.” Dropping one hand from your cheek he ran it through his hair, the deepest shade of pink blooming onto his face when he lowered his gaze. “Remember all those run ins we had? Natasha helped me set them up,” he mumbled.

From the beginning you had known about your friends involvement, but you had assumed Bucky had been in the dark about it too.

“ _Why_?” 

A sheepish smile found its way onto his face, his free hand reaching down to grab yours. Interlacing your fingers together he cleared his throat and continued, “Told you, pretty girl, from that first night we met I felt something for you, but I wasn’t sure you felt the same. Figured if we could meet up accidentally I’d get a better sense of how you felt.”

There was a vulnerability to his words that caught you off guard. Bucky Barnes, the dark haired, blue eyed man who walked with a swagger, who drove a motorcycle as if it was second nature, who had taken you to see the stars and private lakes, who had so boldly asked you out in a bar like it was the easiest thing in the world had been worried you hadn’t liked him. 

Bucky Barnes, the man who had opened up to you about the painful parts of his past with rival biker gangs, who hadn’t pushed you away when he had woken you up from a horrible nightmare, who had let you hold his hand when he told you about the uneasy sleep that plagued him.

It was impossible to know someone completely, even harder to know someone well after only a few months together, but standing in the doorway of the bathroom listening to him speak you felt in that moment as if you understood him better than you’d ever understood anyone.

“Steve warned me not to get too attached, said he didn’t wanna see me get hurt again at the end of summer.” 

Slowly, he swept his gaze back up, eyes shining bright with love and warmth that had you choking on a fresh round of tears. He squeezed your hand, kissed your forehead again, letting his lips linger against your skin as he murmured another round of soothing words.

“Told him it was too late for that. When we went on that trip, had to coax you so much to get you to leave the ocean behind for the day, you remember that?”

How could you forget? He had woken you up at five in the morning, bribed you with those pancakes you loved so much, laughed every time you complained about not knowing where you were going, but the day had been perfect. There had been no plan, just you, him and his motorcycle. Stopping at little roadside stands that sold fresh fruit you had picked wildflowers on the side of the road, ate at rundown diners, spent the day exploring shops and parks, endured his teasing about how there was more around the state than your beach town. 

“Knew that day that I’d do anything I could to make this work,” he finished with another gentle squeeze of your hand. “After the summer we’ve had you don’t give up on that.”

It was too much, the storm, his words, the memories that were swirling and exploding in your mind. Your heart soared at his words before falling faster than a drop in a rollercoaster. 

“I don’t _want_ to leave, but I _have_ to. I have a job back home, responsibilities, I can’t cancel my flight and stay here even though everything in me is telling me to do that.”

“I’d never ask you to do that, Y/N.”

“And I can’t ask you to leave Steve or Sam or the life you’ve made here, Bucky, but how are we supposed to make this work long distance?”

The tears that had subsided as he walked you down memory lane returned full force, doubt crept its way in. You knew that some couples made it work, but the thought of still having to say goodbye, of being miles away from him for months at a time left your heart aching and your knees threatening to buckle.

“It’s not gonna be easy, but we can do it. I’ll come out and see you during the holidays, you’ll be back in summer.”

The way he said it made you believe you could make this work. You had no doubt that it wouldn’t be easy. Having a long distance relationship with your friends hadn’t always been easy. Important moments in each other’s lives had been missed in real-time. There had been days and when life got too busy sometimes weeks of phone tag played and unanswered texts, but there was also a sweetness there when you finally made contact again, the old adage about absence making the heart grow fonder had proved true for when you’d finally reconnect it had been made more meaningful. 

“You really think we can go from spending everyday together to Skype calls and text messages and have that be enough?”

“You been listening to anything I’ve been saying, pretty girl?” He teased. 

“You’ve got toothpaste on the corner of your mouth so it’s been a little hard to focus,” you said, laughing through the previous round of tears.

“You’re telling me this _now_?”

“I’m sorry!” Burying your head against his chest you could still hear the rain slamming against the roof, the occasional rumble of thunder that had him pulling you closer. The storm may still have been raging on outside, but inside it was coming to an end.

Stepping out of his embrace you wiped at your puffy eyes as he went back to the sink to clear the toothpaste away. “Bucky? Can we count this as our goodbye?” Meeting his eyes in the mirror you watched the confusion stretch across his face and you scrambled to explain before he got the wrong idea. “We don’t have a lot of time left and it’s a long flight the last thing I want is to be that weirdo that spends the whole flight crying and annoying the other passengers.”

Mouth free of toothpaste he turned to face you, back against the counter, a mirror image of your positions when the conversation first started. “I don’t want my last memories of us to be of me crying.”

“They’re not gonna be your last memories,” he said softly. 

Silence fell over the room like a blanket and you wanted to believe that he was right, that this wasn’t the end for you. But doubt was a horrible monster, poking its head around the corner, reminding you that there were a million things that could change from the time you said goodbye to the next time you saw him in person. 

Your lower lip jutted out, but you refused to shed another tear, you had meant what you said, you didn’t want these last few days with him to be marked by tears. In a flash he was in front of you again, your arms circling his waist as you rested your head against his bare chest. Closing your eyes you breathed him in, committing this moment to memory. When the tears subsided, when your breathing became normal again, when your were eyes were nearly dry you pulled away, a small smile on your face. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” 

There was no easy way to answer that when you still weren’t convinced this wasn’t the end for you. Nodding your head yeah you offered him what you hoped was a sincere smile, but you knew that it didn’t reach your eyes.

Rubbing the back of his neck he frowned, his actions sending your heart spiraling again when he said, “I think there’s one more thing we need to discuss.”

“What else is there?” 

“What are we gonna do about Jaws? I think you should have full custody. I’ll see him on holidays. He’s still young, no reason to talk to him about why his parents aren’t together.”

“Are you _kidding_ me right now, Bucky Barnes? I thought it was something important you wanted to talk about!”

“You saying the custody of Jaws isn’t important?”

Tossing your hands up in the air, a devilish smirk planted firmly on those plump lips of his you wanted to kiss him, wanted to tell him how much you loved him, how he was one of the only people you knew who could get you to laugh when all you wanted to do was cry. Instead you turned on your heel leaving the room. You knew if he saw the smile stretched wide on your face he’d get far too much satisfaction from it, but try as you might your joyous laughter bounced off the walls when he caught up to you in the hallway, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck, his own smile concealed.

“See, pretty girl? Already making more memories,” he whispered. 


	9. Chapter 9

Saying goodbye never got any easier when it came to your friends no matter how many years you had been doing it. Sprawled out on the couch piled high with colorful oversized pillows and blankets wrapped around shoulders and thrown over laps you listened to the musical laughter of your best friends.

Hair and skin still damp from one last dip in the ocean, head a little fuzzy from the frozen mixed drinks Natasha had made along with spending hours soaking up those last precious rays of sunshine. Limbs tired and aching for a few hours sleep that wouldn’t come, not when you were set to leave in two days.

Music drifted from your phone, drowned out by another round of laughter, their back and forth conversation reminding you of a tennis match, reminding you of how much you were going to miss them.

Rubbing at tired eyes that were filled with tears you sucked in a breath, struggling to focus on the here and now and not on the end that was rushing at you like a tidal wave.

One look at Natasha and Wanda was all it took for the tears to escape. 

“No, no, no,” Wanda said, voice thick with emotion, arm reaching over the pile of pillows and blankets to be thrown around your shoulder in a messy hug. “No crying, Y/N!”

Chastised like a child you laughed through the tears, through the messy hug and before you could get a word in edgewise Natasha was throwing her arms around you too smothering you in a sea of salted ocean air, sunscreen, coconuts and roses.

"I know, I know," you said, voice muffled against their bodies. "I'm just really going to miss you guys." 

"We're going to miss you too," Natasha said, pulling away from the hug before adding, "Well _I_ will. Wanda's not going to miss the fear of worrying you're going to burn the kitchen down. Or of walking in on you and Bucky again."

"One time!" you yelled, your voice raised to be heard above the upbeat, poppy tune that was blaring from your phone. Even though it was hard to talk over the music no one made a move to shut it off. "Those were both _one time_ things. I made breakfast this morning and I didn't burn anything down."

Wanda and Natasha exchanged a look.

"You did kind of burn my pancakes," Wanda said, voice still soft. 

"Those were the first batch and everybody knows the first batch always gets a little burned. Besides I told you I would have eaten those," you said, but when they still looked skeptical, when they exchanged another look between them you reached behind you, fingers grasping onto a pillow before tossing it in their direction. The tears that had been rolling down your cheeks just moments ago from sadness changed to tears from laughter when Natasha grabbed the pillow you had thrown at her only to throw it back at you hitting you square in the face. 

"What about the time we made homemade pizza and you burned it?"

"I was ten, Natasha.”

"Didn’t you set the smoke alarms off though?” The smirk that graced her lips had you throwing the pillow back at her with a laugh.

"I take back what I said. I'm not going to miss you guys. Not even a little bit," you lied, sad smile curling your lips up.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N I’m going to miss you too,” Wanda murmured, voice still soft, eyes brimming with tears.

Leaning your head on Wanda’s shoulder, you reached over and placed your hand on Natasha’s arm. A mismatched set of limbs, a lifetime of stories and memories sewn together like a patch in a quilt.

The music that had been playing for the past few hours ended plunging the room into a near silence making it all too easy to get lost in the sadness of goodbyes.

Natasha stood up, blanket falling around her like a cloak. Grabbing your phone off the table she scrolled through your shared playlists as she said, “Enough. _We_ are going to spend the rest of the night celebrating another summer now that the goodbyes are out of the way.”

The opening chords of a long held favorite played through the speakers, a smile tugged at your lips and before you knew what was happening Natasha was pulling both you and Wanda to your feet. Closing your eyes and tossing your head back your body surrendered to the music, to the unbreakable bond you held with your friends, to the knowing promise that this was only a temporary goodbye.

* * *

The last day of your summer arrived with a brilliant sunrise painted with broad strokes of yellows that reminded you of the wildflowers you had ridden past, oranges that reminded you of the popsicles that had stained his mouth, reds that reminded you of the lipstick you had worn on your first date, blues reminding you of the ocean, the night sky, the way that you felt.

The oceans waves lapped at shore filling the silence that had settled between you and Bucky. Sat on his lap, blanket spread out on the cool sand, his jacket draped across your shoulders, his arms wrapped around your middle, head buried in your neck, warm breath causing you to shiver in his arms which only had him pulling you closer. 

Sadness wafted off him and though you had agreed not to cry it had proven useless so far. 

Seagulls cawed overhead, a sailboat glided across the water and as you tilted your head back against his shoulder staring up at the newly brightened sky it was hard to believe this was the same private beach he had taken you to at the beginning of summer. It looked the same, albeit a little prettier in dawns early light, but it was hard to wrap your mind around all that had changed from the beginning of summer till the end. 

A car engine rumbled in the distant and without saying a word you got up, your hand stretched out to his, tears pooled in your eyes, a silent plea on your lips, the seconds ticking down. 

The walk back to his motorcycle was silent, his hand holding yours, the other clutched tight to the blanket with flecks of sand threaded through the fabric.

Standing in the golden light of the sunrise, his back to the ocean, body backlit like an angel you smiled sadly. Memorizing the way the light bounced off his dark hair, the way his shirt was stretched taut across his beefy body, the way he looked so beautiful standing in front of that last summer sunrise, blue eyes drinking you in as if he too were trying to memorize you and this moment.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Bucky Barnes," you whispered. You didn't try to stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks or the way your shoulders heaved with each breath. His jacket that had always brought you comfort felt heavy draped across your frame, the expanse of the beach that had always brought you peace felt suffocating now. You didn't know after this summer how you were supposed to look at sunsets or the ocean, the stars or motorcycles, listen to love songs or watch a romantic movie without immediately being transported back to him, to this summer. The ache in your chest that had grown larger over these past few weeks the closer you got to the end felt as if it was going to swallow you whole, you had never experienced a pain like this before and if this was what it meant to say goodbye to your first love you didn't know how you were going to survive.

"Love," he cooed, voice thick from lack of sleep and use he cupped your face, thumbs brushing away your tears as best he could, but the new name had you crumbling beneath his hold only serving to remind you of everything you had gained this summer, everything you were about to lose. It didn't matter all the promises you had made beneath the lights of his bathroom in the middle of a storm or whispered between the sheets of his bed in between kisses and gentle touches of lovers you still had doubts about how you were going to make this work.

"Gonna miss you too, pretty girl, fuck." His head hung low, hint of a humorless laugh dangled from his lips as he dropped his hands from your face to pull you closer, your tears stained his shirt, but if he minded he didn't say anything. 

* * *

  
After, with your luggage packed into the back of Natasha’s car and another round of goodbyes with your friends Bucky took the long way to the airport through quiet streets lined with pretty trees and houses you had dreamed about one day living in. He drove past joggers with dogs and groups of kids riding bicycles. Past the ocean, past boutiques and coffee shops and restaurants. Windows rolled down, warm summer air rushing in and muffling your broken sobs. With one hand on the steering wheel his other hand held tight to yours, fingers interlaced the way he knew you liked best. With puffy eyes and a heavy heart you stared out the window wishing that you had enough strength to look at him, to tell him how much he meant to you, but you swallowed the words down and focused on the scenery that flew past you. 

Stopped at a red light he squeezed your hand gently and murmured a soft, "Pretty girl."

"The day before I came I saw a shooting star," you said softly. "It was the first one I had ever seen."

"Yeah? You make a wish?" The rhythmic tick, tick, tick of the blinker filled the car and out of the corner of your eye you could see him watching you.

"Of course." Turning to face him you thought about that night, how you had told yourself you didn't really believe that wishing on shooting stars worked, but how you always knew you'd do it anyways if you saw one. "I wished that I could fall in love."

He squeezed your hand again, hint of a smile curling those kissable lips up. "That really what you wished for?"

"Yeah." You hadn't told your friends about that night and you hadn't planned on telling him either, but as the airport loomed in the distance, as your time with him ran out with no guarantee that a long distance relationship could work or that you'd ever see him again the words had spilled. "And the next night I met you."

The hint of a smile turned into a full blown grin, one that lit up his entire face as the sun beamed down on him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the wind whipped at his hair, a throaty chuckle fell from that perfect mouth as he pulled into a parking spot. 

Dread pooled in the pit of your stomach that not even the beauty of his laugh could ease. Shutting the car off he turned to face you, large hand cupping your tear stained cheek. "Love." Eyes that were as pretty as the ocean searched yours and when he rested his forehead against yours you closed your eyes. "Love," he whispered again, warm breath mixing with yours smelling like coffee and cinnamon. "I know how much you love those stars, but we would have met either way. Maybe not that night or not that way, but our paths would have still crossed."

"How can you be so sure, Bucky Barnes?"

"Told you it's a small town."

At that you opened your eyes to see the love and warmth reflected back at you and though the sadness of leaving this town, this summer, your friends and him behind was swallowing you whole you couldn't help the small laugh you let out remembering how he had said that same thing that first night. Closing the distance you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that tasted like tears and goodbyes.

"C'mon," he sighed, stealing one more kiss. "Natasha was very specific about what she was going to do to me if I made you miss your flight.

His words hung heavy in the air with neither of you making a move to get out. Leaving him was like ripping a bandaid off. The longer you stayed in the car beneath the warm sun the worse it was going to be. Getting out your pace was slow as you walked around to the trunk, each step forward you felt the distance growing between you and again you wondered how you were going to make this work. 

A dull ache throbbed behind your eyes from the hours you had spent crying, your throat was bone dry, each beat of your heart making you wonder how you were supposed to leave him behind when everything inside of you was screaming to pile your luggage back into the trunk and stay here with him. 

A summer spent with him boiled down to this, your final goodbye in a crowded parking lot of an airport.

"I'll call you when I land," you promised. It was too difficult to meet his eyes so you stared down at his hands that were once again holding yours. His, callused and tanned, the faintest marks of grease still lingering. Yours, bracelet on your wrist, chipped nail polish, shaking in his. You wanted to wipe away your tears, wanted to push a lock of his hair behind his ears for the last time, wanted to pull him closer and never let him go, but as your eyes slowly traveled up to meet his you weren't able to do anything but wish you had been lucky enough to see another shooting star so you could wish that you'd never have to say goodbye to him. 

"Hey, we'll be back together in a couple months for the holidays," he murmured. "In time to make sure you don't fall through any railings." Teasing words and a lopsided grin from him was all it took to get a smile to break through your tears.

"Very funny, Bucky Barnes."

"Got you to smile didn't it?" A beat passed before he asked with reluctance, "You got everything?"

Without looking down you mumbled a yeah. 

"C'mere." Letting go of your hands he pulled you in for a hug, his strong arms wrapping securely around you as you buried your head in his chest. "Love you so fucking much, pretty girl," he mumbled, voice rough.

"I love you too." Stepping out of his familiar embrace you kissed him one last time before grabbing your luggage. You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you headed inside, but you couldn't turn around knowing that if you did your heart would crumble into a thousand pieces and already it was shattering with only twenty feet of distance between you. How were you supposed to survive with hundreds of miles between you? 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is the last chapter!
> 
> I've got two bonus chapters coming up, one smutty and one fluffy, but I want to thank everyone who stuck with me on this journey and who left kudos and comments! 
> 
> I'll be sad to say goodbye to this two and this story, but I have a lot more stories planned!

Heavy sheets of ice clung to your windshield, air so frigid you could see your breath. It was the kind of cold you felt deep in your bones making you convinced you’d never be warm again. It was days like these that left you sure you’d never see summer again.

_Summer._

Calendar pages told you it was only a few months away, but looking out the car window at the piles of snow that blanketed the city, at the icicles that dangled dangerously from rooftops of homes and business, at a few people brave enough to brace the elements walking downtown with heavy coats, scarves wrapped around necks, hats pulled down low over ears it was hard to imagine summer ever returning.

You knew that you could revisit that year at the beach with Bucky anytime you wanted. Packed away in a box you used to pull out everyday your fingertips would brush over mementos that seemed to have been from a lifetime ago. 

Seashells placed in a pretty jar from the hours you had spent in the early morning light picking through sand. The ugly pink, twenty five cent ring he had bought you as a joke outside a grocery store that you wore proudly. Pictures of the two of you. The ones you had forced him to take cuddled together on the top of the Ferris wheel, the cliche couple pictures of sunsets behind you, your lips on his, laughing as you fumbled with your phone and the distraction of his kisses. There were candid shots too, one of you and Bucky asleep on the patio, one you had snapped of him and Sam, their heads thrown back in a laugh. Staring at that one you swore you could still hear the richness of his laughter, swore you could still feel the way his chest would rumble beneath your head, your own laughter following after. There were ticket stubs from movies and old receipts from late night runs to stores. Lining the very bottom of the box was an old henley shirt of his, one you had slipped on towards the end of that summer and brought home with you. 

After saying goodbye to him that sunny afternoon you had spent weeks sleeping in that shirt until any scent of his that clung to it faded away. And when the pain of missing him became too much for you to bear you had folded it neatly and placed it in the box along with the rest of the reminders of that summer, shoving it beneath your bed. 

Out of sight, out mind. 

But it hadn’t worked out that way because the thing that nobody tells you about a first love is how deep in your bones you feel that love. No matter how much time passes you always carry a tiny piece of that person around with you. 

Your job which had always been a bright spot in your life became unbearable. The pain of seeing happy couples in love, of helping them plan their big day only made you think of Bucky Barnes and what might have been for the two of you had you been able to stay. 

The blare of a car horn jarred you from your thoughts and you lifted a hand up in the rear view mirror in a gesture of apology. You hit the gas, wheels spinning against the snow, string of curse words falling from your lips.

Panic seized your heart and memories overtook your mind as your destination drew closer through the ice covered windshield. Tears pooled in your eyes, your palms grew sweaty against the steering wheel, but you knew it had nothing to do with how high you had the heat on and everything to do with what awaited you. 

The building looked the same and you took comfort in that. The past year had been so full of changes, some more welcome than others that seeing something stay the same was a relief.

Pulling into the first empty spot you could find you shut the car off. Glancing into the rearview mirror you took sight of your puffy eyes, chapped lips, hair that you knew would be a mess once you pulled your hat off. The thought of at least attempting to look halfway decent crossed your mind, but the way your heart hammered in your ribcage, the way your mind raced with a hundred different scenarios of how this would go far outweighed the way you looked right now. Deep down you knew that it didn't matter anyways. Yanking the keys from the ignition you shoved them into your purse.

Stepping inside you squinted into the dimness, no matter how many times you had been here before your eyes never quite got used to how low they kept the lights. The music was off making the loud voices of patrons arguing over things seem more amplified. Your gaze swept through the interior before you hesitantly walked over to the bar searching for a friendly face amongst the sea of strangers. 

"There she is." That voice, you would never forget that voice. 

Turning around as a hand clamped onto your shoulder your face broke out into a wide smile, happiness flooded through you at the familiarity. "Sam!" Throwing your arms around his shoulders you basked in the warmth of his thousand watt smile. Though you had kept in touch with him, even reached out to him to help you set this up it wasn't the same as finally seeing him after all these months. "You haven't changed at all," you murmured, stepping out of his embrace to get a good look at him. 

"Can't say the same about you."

Your eyebrows knitted together, but before you could ask him what he meant he was speaking up.

"You've changed. Not used to seeing you without those googly eyes."

"Shut up," you said laughing. Glass shattered followed by a round of _fuck yous_ , but you didn't bother to see if it was from a clumsy bartender or the threat of a fight breaking out. The truth was you didn't care. 

"That anyway to talk to the person you came here to see?"

"You're right. I drove hundreds of miles in the snow to see _just_ you."

"That's what I thought," he said, breaking out into a laugh that never failed to make you smile. Being in Sam's presence was like standing beneath the sun. He had this way of making you feel like the only person in the room with the way he gave you his full attention. And any other time you would have soaked up that attention, but as your stomach fluttered with butterflies, as a nervous energy flowed from the top of your head to the tips of your toes you couldn't help peering around him searching for the person you had come to see. "Am I keeping you from something?"

"No, of cour-."

"He's in the back room."

Your eyes lit up and your heart beat so loud you swore Sam could hear it over the clash of drums as someone started the jukebox up, the music loud enough it caused you to jump. Torn between catching up with Sam and running into the back room you peered around him trying to catch a glimpse of him, but you came up empty.

"You're starting to get googly eyes, _go_ ," he said, nudging you forward. 

He didn't have to tell you twice as you threw your arms around him again in a final hug murmuring another round of appreciative thank yous for helping you headed towards the back room. 

Your steps were measured, your mind blank, any previous speeches you had planned out for this moment disappeared as you caught your first sight of him bent over the pool table in concentration. You watched him remembering the time he had tried to teach you the game during a lazy late morning in the bar hiding out from the soaring temperatures. Hopeless at the game you had spent most of the lesson admiring his ass every time he leaned over the table to shoot the ball, had spent most of the lesson twisting in his arms and distracting him with kisses and pleas that you didn’t _care_ about the rules or the game you just wanted to watch him. 

His hair was a little shorter, his ass still looked amazing in those jeans, those same clunky black boots adorning his feet. It was hard to make out the words he was saying to Steve, but you didn't care. Hearing the sound of his voice in person again was enough for your knees to grow weak. 

"Buck," Steve murmured, head nodding in your direction.

Not in a hurry he took his shot, long fingers shoving a piece of hair behind his ear before he straightened up and turned around. Blue grey eyes shimmered with a confusion that made you want to laugh. Mouth turned down in a pretty frown neither of you made a move to close the gap of distance you’d been struggling with since leaving last summer.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, fist drawn tight he rubbed at his eyes. Tossing the pool cue onto the green velvet table behind him he said it again. “You put something in my drink?”

“Bucky Barnes,” you chastised with a soft laugh. Your throat was so dry it was hard to get the words out. Taking a shaky step forward your legs felt like jello and you worried you were going to pass out before you even made it to him. 

Like so many times before in two long strides he was standing in front of you, large hands cupping your face in a death grip, disbelief clouded his eyes as they searched yours.

Months apart made you forget how beautiful he was in person, even beneath the bad lighting he was stunning. Smelling like whiskey and woods and just a hint of mint you reached out, hands gripping onto the soft material of his shirt before sliding up to his shoulders encased in that familiar leather jacket, searching for a way to ground yourself on shaky knees.

Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks and you struggled to get enough air into your lungs as your body shook. The hours you had spent cooped up in the car, the months you had spent apart, the emotional toll of seeing him again was too much.

“Hi,” you whispered.

Your hands shook and with much reluctance you pulled away, fingers brushing across the dark hair of his beard. He stared into your eyes before his gaze dropped lower to your lips. Slanting his mouth over yours you sighed into the kiss that tasted of whiskey and cigarettes and _home_. You tangled your hands in his hair and pressed your body closer to his desperate to feel all of him. He broke the kiss, breath coming out in shallow pants as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Fuck, you’re really here.”

“I thought we already established that,” you teased.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming for the weekend, pretty girl?” 

“I told Sam, but I’m n-,” you started, the rest of your words getting cut off when he narrowed his pretty blue eyes.

“You told Sam, but you couldn’t tell your boyfriend?”

“-Not here for the weekend,” you finished.

“You’re here for the week?” He asked, hope lighting up his face as he reached down for your hand.

“No.”

Bucky didn’t say anything as he interlaced his fingers with yours. Dressed in a heavy sweater and even heavier winter jacket sweat was beginning to collect at the base of your neck from the heat blasting through the air vents, but you didn’t bother to remove the heavy layers. The song on the jukebox changed over to one with a wailing guitar that made your head pound. Somewhere during your reunion Steve had slipped out of the room giving you and Bucky the privacy you needed to have this conversation. 

“Don’t tell me you came all the way here to break my heart,” he whispered softly, the pain in his voice sending daggers straight to your heart and when he took a step back widening the distance between you once again you swore you heart shrunk in size.

You shook your head no and squeezed his hand softly, silently pleading with him to just step closer. Locking your eyes on his you struggled to find the words. 

“I can’t keep doing this long distance,” you started. “When you came to visit for the holidays we barely got to spend any time together and when you left? God, it hurt more than saying goodbye the first time. I can’t keep doing Skype calls a few times a week that if we’re lucky last for fifteen minutes. And all the missed calls and text messages? Only being able to spend summers and a couple holidays throughout the year together? It isn’t enough for me.”

“And I know we agreed we’d never ask each other to give up our lives to live closer because it’s not fair, but I need you to know that I’m not doing this just for you. I miss this place when I’m not here. I miss my friends and the life that I get to carve out for a few months each year. When I was a kid I always dreamed about one day living here permanently with Wanda and Natasha.”

“What are you saying, pretty girl?” He asked, hesitancy laced his words, but there was a hopefulness in his eyes that had your stomach filling with butterflies and a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m saying that I’m not just here for a few days and I’m definitely not here to break you heart, Bucky Barnes. I’m staying. I’ve already got a job and I’m moving in with Wanda and Natasha and I know that I won’t have my summers free, but... I’ll be here.”

The smile that lit up his face could illuminate even the darkest rooms of the bar and when he closed that gap of space by wrapping his arms around you in a hug that sent your body stumbling backwards into a wobbly chair you knew what true happiness felt like. 

Laughing through your tears he pulled back to cup your cheeks and said, “You’re really staying?” 

“I’m really staying.”

“ _Fuck_.”

Capturing your lips in a kiss that stole your breath and your heart you basked in the joy knowing that this time when you had to say goodbye it’d be at the end of a date with the promise of seeing each other again in a few hours instead of months later.

“Sam knew about this?”

Struggling with words you nodded your head.

“Yeah? You told him about this before you told me?”

“Bucky Barnes! I tell you that I’m staying and you’re upset that Sam knew before you? _Really_?”

“What?” He laughed. “Just trying to figure out why he got to know first.”

“I needed his help in tracking you down and when he told me you’d be here I don’t know. This was the place you first asked me out I guess it seemed fitting to tell you the news here,” you explained with a shrug of your shoulder. “Besides you’re not the only one who can use friends when planning surprises.”

“Still coulda told me.”

“Are you going to be upset about this all night or are we going to get out of here and celebrate my staying? Because I don’t know about you, but I could _really_ go for some of your famous pancakes right about now.”

“I can do pancakes and a Jaws movie marathon,” he said, smirk tugging his lips upwards.

“Uh uh, I did _not_ say yes to that second part!” You said, following him out of the bar and into the next chapter of your life. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people on tumblr asked about Bucky and the reader hooking up and those pancakes he made her the morning after and here we are! A chapter full of smut and fluff lol

Bucky Barnes kissed you like a man who had nothing but time to spare. 

Pressed first into the narrow cushions of his couch amid giggles and struggles to find a comfortable position. Skin slick with sweat, clothes removed at a snails pace until nothing but your underwear remained he kissed you until your head was dizzy and you were desperate for more than his callused hands running along your hips and sides and his hips rocking against your clothed core.

Pressed against the wall outside his room, thick thigh shoved between your legs, even thicker biceps that caged you in he kissed his way down your neck, mouth sucking bruises into your skin that left you gasping his name, eager to know how else he could use that pretty mouth of his. Hands running over his broad shoulders, nails scraping down his back thoughts of how it was too hot to be doing this disappeared when his teeth grazed along your pulse point. Guiding his mouth back to yours he kissed you until your knees grew weak.

Pressed into the sheets of his bed drinking you in, love struck smile on his too pretty face, darkened eyes that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flutter with butterflies. He leaned down, long hair tickling your face, giggles bubbling to the surface he kissed you until you swore you’d never forget the feel of his lips on yours.

“ _Pretty girl_.” Words whispered in a darkened room against the whir of the fans blades and your heavy pants. Against the rustling of the bed sheets beneath your squirming body and the deep chuckles he let out amid your impatience. 

“Look at you.” Murmured words with a hint of awe. Fingertips that traced along the inside of your thighs. Knuckles that brushed along the wet spot of you underwear. A question in his eyes, an arch of your back, hips tilted upwards and your underwear is gone. Exposed and glistening you have no time to be embarrassed, the sheer neediness from an hour making out on the couch has you desperate to relieve the ache in your core.

Bucky Barnes touched you like it was his mission to make you see stars.

Hand slipped between sweaty thighs, fingers coated in slick, parting of lips, breath hot against already burning skin and then his lips were moving lower, lower, lower showing you _exactly_ what else he can do with that pretty mouth of his. Like with everything else tonight he takes his time, long strokes of his tongue against your wetness as if he has all the time in the world. Summer is stretched out before you, a seemingly endless pool of long days and longer nights, but the one thing you don't have right now is time, not when it feels like your body is about to snap like a rubber band stretched too tight. 

" _Oh god_." Two words that didn't come close to the way he's plunged you into the depths of pure bliss. Back arched and hips grinding against his face. Hands tangled in his hair pushing him closer to your heat. Chest heaving and you swear you're never going to catch your breath after he's finished with you. 

Large hand splayed across your stomach pinning you to bed, but that didn’t stop you from squirming beneath his hold when his long fingers curled inside of you and his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Taste so fucking good, pretty girl." Words moaned against a heat and a wetness that has the coil in your abdomen tightening with each swirl of his tongue and curl of his fingers.

The fan in the corner does little to ease the way you're sweating and gasping, but on the brink and about to fall over you don't care.

" _B-Bucky_!" No time for full names, not when he's urging you _to let go_ , voice rough, bordering on a growl and sending you over with a strangled cry and a harsh yank to his hair.

Long tongue lapping at your release, fingers still working you over even when you whined and pushed his head away, too sensitive, too tired, _too blissed out_. Beard glistening from your juices, eyes shining bright and he's kissing his way back up your sweaty body, fingers still curled deep inside of you, your walls fluttering around him, fingers threading through his sweaty hair before sliding down his neck and guiding his messy mouth back towards you. The taste of you lingered on his lips and tongue. 

"Come on," he urged, teeth nipping at your lower lip, pad of his thumb circling your clit. "I know you got another one in you." 

Panting heavily, head sinking into his pillow, wide eyed and staring up at him you whimpered when you felt yourself teetering on the edge again. "Feels so good," you gasped, hips thrusting against his hand. 

Smirk full of confidence, twist of his fingers and his mouth is hot on your jaw and neck, marking you up for days. "I know you're close, can feel you squeezing my fingers so good."

"Oh god, _Bucky_!" You gasped, body shaking beneath his as your eyes slammed shut. Swatting his hand away when the sensitivity became too much you let out a pathetic whine when you felt his fingers slip out of you, his lips peppering your face in kisses.

" _Bucky Barnes_." Words whispered into the dimness of his room, hint of a smile curling your lips up, blissful giggle as his beard tickled your face. You can feel his erection straining against his boxers, pressed against you and even though it's still too hot to be doing this and even though your body is exhausted you're desperate to feel all of him against the palm of your hand. "Bucky Barnes," you said again, voice still a little breathless, but when you reached down, hand cupping him through his boxers the low moan he lets out has your body waking up. 

" _Fuck_ *," he groaned and you had barely touched him.

Pushing on his shoulder he gets the hint, rolling onto his back, head propped up by pillows, legs spread wide giving you plenty of room. "Gonna tease me all night?" 

It's not until he said something that you realize you've been staring, but how can you not? Bathed in the thin sliver of moonlight that shines through his window, chest glistening with sweat, long hair disheveled with pieces pushed behind his ear and other pieces sticking up he's a sight to behold. The unmistakable bulge in his boxers has your eyes stealing glances and if the way you had cupped him earlier was any indication you know that once you strip him bare he's going to be even more beautiful.

"Hey," he murmured, voice soft, almost drowned out by your shaky breaths and the rumble of the air conditioner. "You don't have to do this, pretty girl. Don't gotta do anything you're not comfortable with." His hand reached out to cup your face and you melted at his words and gentle touch, at the sweetness of his tone, the complete opposite of the filth that ran through your mind. 

You tilted your head to the side, soft kiss landing on the palm of his hand, dirty smile on your face. "You have no idea how much I want to do this, Bucky Barnes," you said, lust dripping from your voice and your touch as you boldly slipped your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. Heavy against the palm of your hand you both let out a moan at the same time, his head tilted back against the pillows, eyes half lidded as you smeared his leaking precum around. Giving him an experimental stroke your mouth watered, your free hand tugging his boxers down past his knees where they rest because the size of him takes your breath away. 

His hips thrust against your hand, a needy whine escaping those kissable lips and if you weren't distracted you would have found it amusing the way your beefy boyfriend turned into a whiny mess at the simplest of touches. Part of you wanted to take your time, tease him like he had done to you, but you don't have the patience for that and neither does Bucky when he lets out another deep groan as you set a slow rhythm.

Mesmerized by the hardness of him and the way his hands tangled into his bed sheets, eyes slammed shut, breathing staggered you dipped your head down, lips wrapping around the very tip of him as your hand worked over the rest. 

"Fuck, Y/N." And that's all it took for his eyes to pop open and for you to slide him a little further past your wet lips. Eyes locked on his and you could almost see the battle brewing behind his gaze as he struggled to keep his eyes open amid the pleasure. His hand rested on the back of your head, but he let you set the pace. Low grunts and heavy breaths, legs shaking when you scraped your nails along the inside of his thighs. Head bobbing and hand massaging his balls you took pride in hearing the way he came undone 

" _Y/N_ ," he choked out. 

You knew by the way his knuckles were turning white from twisting the sheets and the way his breath became more ragged that it wouldn't take him much longer. 

Warm and salty his release slides down the back of your throat and you peppered soft kisses against his length to help him ride out his orgasm until he's grasping at your shoulders and pulling you back up to him. His cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink, tanned chest heaving with each breath, room that smelled of sex and sweat Bucky Barnes did aftercare like he had been trained for it his whole life.

Soft kisses and callused hands, whispered words of how he’d be right back returning with a washcloth, damp with cool water that felt like heaven against overheated skin.

Fan on high, body curled into his side, still too hot to be doing this, but neither of you cared when sleep overtook satisfied limbs.

* * *

  
The morning after is a flurry of movement in the sun drenched kitchen. Half dressed, bleary eyed, but unbelievably happy in the way that comes with a still new relationship and the sunny days of summer. Fresh brewed coffee, pancakes in the pan, the sweetness of chocolate chips in the air and _him_. Bumped hips and brushed fingertips, cupboard doors opening and closing, plates set out, kisses stolen. And it’s early in the morning, in the relationship, but as you watch him flip the pancakes, lopsided grin on his face when he asked if _you like what you saw, pretty girl_. Words that set your stomach filling with butterflies you can’t help but think about how already you’re head over heels for him.

You can’t remember the last time a boyfriend made you breakfast and as you sit down at the table, plates piled high with melted butter and sliced bananas, chocolate chips oozing out of golden brown pancakes your heart is full of love. 

“These are so good,” you gushed, a low moan muffled around the fork as you shoved another bite into your mouth. 

“Yeah?” He teased, eyes locked on yours, smirk on his face.

“Best thing I’ve ever had _good_.”

“This your first time eating pancakes?”

“You know what, Bucky Barnes?” You asked, mouth stuffed full, bare foot kicking at his ankle beneath the table, his deep laughter filling the room as he grabbed the edge of the chair and pulled you closer to him. 

“What?” Challenge in his voice, blue eyes twinkling in the warm kitchen, hand resting on your knee before sliding higher, your breath hitching and breakfast all but forgotten. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you said, kissing him softly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From hate to love your evolving relationship with Jaws.
> 
> A special thank you goes out to @shawnie--jo on tumblr for coming up with a few of these ideas!

Its beady eyes stared at you from atop Bucky’s bed. If it wasn’t bad enough that you had to hold that monstrosity onto that monstrosity on the ride back to his house after the fair _now_ he expected you to sleep in the same room with it? No. Absolutely not. 

The only appropriate place for it was in a shoebox shoved beneath the bed. Or in the back of a closet, pile of jackets and sweaters buried atop it. Possibly in the basement beneath the stairs with the rest of the junk people always said they were going to clean out but never did. You know, the places monsters were _supposed_ to be.

The faucet shut off in the bathroom and before you could think this through you snatched the dumb toy off his bed. Eyes swept around his room looking for a place you could stuff it where you could sleep in peace without fear of it staring at you all night. 

Heavy footsteps sounded outside his room and you knew your time was running out. Flinging open the top drawer of his dresser stuffed with plain colored tee shirts you tried to stuff the shark inside, but the drawer wouldn’t shut. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked. Shirtless, hair still pulled back in a bun he leaned against the doorway, mischief in his eyes and knowing smirk on his face as you tried to act normal, but it was a failed attempt when you couldn’t stop shuffling your feet or avoiding his gaze. 

“Nothing!” You blurted as you stood in front of his dresser trying to hide the way half of Jaws was sticking out of the drawer.

“Nothing, huh? Cause from over here it looks like you’re trying to kill Jaws. That what you doing, pretty girl?”

“I can’t sleep with that thing staring at me all night,” you mumbled, stepping away from the dresser as Bucky made his way over to you.

“Who said we were gonna be sleeping tonight?” He asked, arching his eyebrows.

“We’re not having sex while that’s in your room.”

"Could be fun," he teased, laughing when you swatted his shoulder. “Alright, alright I’ll put him in the kitchen how’s that?”

“Better.”

"You know someday you're gonna love Jaws as much as you love me, pretty girl."

"Not a chance."

* * *

  
Five missed calls. Three voicemails. Twenty text messages. Thirty-six unread emails. But none from the person you wanted to talk to. 

Tipsy on champagne and tired of the growing distance between you and Bucky you pulled Jaws onto your lap. You still hated it, but sometimes, on nights like this, with the weather turning cooler, with shorts and tee shirts packed away and sweaters and boots being pulled out if you closed your eyes you could still remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. 

It was late, even later for him, but that didn’t stop you from snapping a picture of you and Jaws and sending him a text with the words _miss you_ attached. You didn’t expect a reply not when the past few weeks had been a back and forth of phone tag, rescheduled Skype dates and few worded text messages of miss you and loves you. Going from seeing each other everyday to some days not even talking had been an adjustment you were still struggling with. 

Your phone rang and without looking at who it was you answered it with a tired hello.

“Always knew you slept with Jaws.” 

Wherever he was calling from it was hard to hear over the shouting in the background. If you closed your eyes you could picture him in the bar, crowded with rowdy patrons, leaning over the pool table or at the bar, elbow resting on the counter, glass of whiskey in front of him. You could picture him at the garage, lights blaring, music pounding through the speakers, tools clanking on the ground. Wherever he was you wished that you were there with him instead of in your apartment cuddling with a stupid toy.

"Still there?" He asked, the sudden silence in the background jarring you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah," you whispered, swallowing down the sadness that came with a long distance relationship. "Where are you?"

He ignored your question and said, "Do me a favor. Go outside."

"It's cold out."

"You've got my sweatshirt."

"You can't tell from one picture that it's _your_ sweatshirt."

"Pretty girl," he cooed and you could imagine him leaning against the brick facade of the bar, cigarette dangling from his lips, phone pressed to his ear, dressed in that leather jacket and those tight jeans. "Think I didn't notice you took some of my clothes home with you? C'mon, outside, _now_."

"Yes, sir," you teased. Climbing out of bed and padding through your apartment you went to the doors that led out to your balcony. Enough space for a small table and chair you had spent countless hours sipping coffee in the golden light of the morning and even more hours spent at night with a glass of wine and your thoughts to keep you company. Outside the city was still awake, lights on, cars driving past and as you tilted your head up to the sky you let out a quiet sigh. 

"You looking at the stars?" He asked, voice soft and gentle in a way that let you know that's exactly what he was doing.

The city lights made it difficult to see, but you could pick out two or three, your eyes glued to the bright lights that always reminded you of summer, of _home_. 

"Jaws watching them with you?" He asked, teasing lilt of his voice that left you unsure if you wanted to laugh or yell at him for ruining the moment.

"Seriously, Bucky Barnes?"

"What? You don't think he'd like to watch the stars too?"

“I think that you’re ridiculous.”

"Yeah? That so, pretty girl?” 

“And for the record I’m only sleeping with Jaws because you aren’t here,” you whispered softly, the silence on the other end deafening. You hated how you finally got to talk to him again for more than a few minutes and you had to ruin it by bringing up how much you missed him. Letting out a shaky breath you stared up at the few stars that you could see wishing more than anything that you were there with him.

“Miss you too,” he murmured, voice thick. 

Wrapping his sweatshirt tighter around your frame you settled into the chair, head still tilted up to the stars you listened to the gentle breathing on the other end of the phone. Two lovers hundreds of miles away connected by a magical summer and the stars that glittered above. 

* * *

Alpine laid curled by your head, Jaws wrapped in your arms, blanket haphazardly thrown over your shivering body. Your head was pounding, your throat sore, nose so stuffed up you were forgetting what it was like to be able to breath normally. Dirty kleenex littered the floor surrounding Bucky's bed which you knew you should pick up, but hadn’t gotten around to yet. The front door opened and closed and even in the distance the sound made your head pound. Clenching your eyes shut you groaned when Alpine's short nails dug into your scalp. 

"How you feeling?" Bucky asked, standing in the doorway as he held a container of what looked like chicken noodle soup. Steam rose from the top and your stomach growled, but you knew that there was no way you could eat that right now, not when every subtle move of your body made your head scream. 

"How do you think?" You mumbled and though you didn't mean for your tone to sound so snarky you couldn't help it. You didn't handle being sick well. 

He set the soup down on top of his dresser and walked over to you, back of his hand pressed against your burning forehead before sliding down to your cheek. You wanted to swat his hand away, warn him _again_ that he was going to get sick if he kept coming in here to check on you, but he had ignored each warning telling you that he didn't care if he got sick he just wanted you to feel better. 

"You know what might make you feel better?" 

He didn't wait for an answer as he picked up a hissing Alpine and set her down at the foot of the bed where she promptly jumped onto the floor and left the room. Next, he reached for Jaws, removing the stuffed toy that was beginning to look a little worn from months of cuddling it when you were apart and set him on the floor before crawling into bed next to you. 

"Taking away Alpine and Jaws is supposed to make me feel better?"

He scoffed. "No." The bed dipped beneath his weight and he pressed a lingering kiss to your burning forehead. "Cuddling with me will make you feel better."

"You could have done that without kicking Alpine out."

"She was in my spot."

"She was laying on top of head. Last time I checked that is _not_ your spot."

Bucky had the decency to look embarrassed and when he shrugged his shoulders and wouldn't meet your eyes you let out a frustrated groan as you realized what this was really about.

"Bucky Barnes," you snapped. "I'm sick and you're telling me that you're jealous over a cat and a stupid stuffed toy that I was laying with?"

"No," he mumbled, but the flush of color that popped onto his cheeks and the way he still wouldn't meet your eyes told a different story. 

"You're unbelievable. You know that, right? A _cat_ and a stuffed _toy_ is what makes you jealous?"

"Pretty girl," he tried.

" _No_." 

"I'm not jealous," he mumbled. "But why would you want to cuddle with Jaws when you could cuddle with me?"

"Because Jaws doesn't get jealous over something stupid. _And_ Jaws isn't going to get sick from me."

"Already told you I'm not gonna get sick, Y/N. C'mon, just let me hold me for a little while, yeah?"

"You're ridiculous."

"That a yes?" 

Curling into his side you gave a small nod of your head even though every move you made had your head pounding. 

* * *

“What happened?" Bucky asked, blue eyes full of worry and concern that set you off on another round of tears. 

There was no way you could tell him what happened without him thinking that you were overreacting and logically you knew that's what you were doing, but it still hurt. 

"That... that," you started before you glared at the monster of a puppy you had agreed to watch while Steve and Sharon went out of town for the weekend. Sure, it may have looked like a sweet golden retriever with its floppy ears and tail that wagged at everything and anything, but inside? Inside that dog was a menace. "She ate Jaws, Bucky!"

"What do you mean she ate Jaws?" He asked, struggling not to laugh when you held up the remnants of what used to be that stupid toy he had won you at the carnival, but that was now a mangled mess of stuffing coming out of the seams, one eye missing and a fin barely hanging on.

"When I was feeding Alpine she disappeared and when I checked on her she had Jaws in her mouth!"

"It's okay, we'll throw it out."

Your face crumbled at his words, lower lip jutting out. It was dumb. You didn't even _like_ that stupid toy, but it had been through so much since he had won it at the fair for you. From having Bucky keep it in the closet when you were at his house to having him stuff it in your luggage to you sleeping with it every night when you were apart to reaching for it when he was at work or you were having a bad day. You still hated sharks, but over the years it had become a huge part of your lives, a physical memento of a summer that had changed each of you. 

"We can't throw it out!"

"Why? I thought you hated this?" 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, tears dried on your face as the shark eating puppy circled around your feet, tail wagging and smacking against your legs with its excitement. "I do. I did. I don't know. I just... you can't throw it out. You won that for me our first summer. It's special," you murmured. 

"I remember," he said smiling. "I won't throw it out, okay? Promise, pretty girl."

Later that night on the couch with Alpine on your lap and the puppy on the far end of the couch snoring away you mindlessly flicked through the channels on tv looking for something to watch. 

"Promised you I wouldn't throw it out," Bucky said, sitting next to you on the couch and handing you Jaws that looked somehow even worse than when he had first won it. 

"Maybe you should have," you replied, laughter wracking your body as you held the mangled toy in your hand. Still missing an eye and smaller with half the stuffing removed, mismatched colored thread barely held the fin to the body. Your fingers brushed over the thread, the spot where its other eye used to be, down the side where it was smaller now. It was so ugly, but the fact that Bucky had sewn it up, albeit poorly, had you tearing up again. All those years ago standing in a crowd, face scrunched up when he presented it to you so proudly, a summer that had been near its end, a hundred questions of what the future would mean to now, sitting on the couch with him, those questions answered, a lifetime with him stretched out before you. 

"It's perfect, Bucky Barnes," you whispered, leaning over and kissing him softly.

"Told you someday you'd love Jaws as much as you love me."

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> And as always you can follow me on tumblr @tellmealovestory where I thirst over Bucky.


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